Cruelty and the Beast
by DeathlikeSilence
Summary: The Chamber of Secrets has been opened, and Hogwarts is at unrest. A shy, bullied girl, known by her classmates as 'Moaning Myrtle', is meanwhile preoccupied with her infatuation for Tom Riddle. Little does she know that her love will prove to be fatal...
1. The Object of Her Yearning Heart

**Cruelty and the Beast **

_One: The Object of her Yearning Heart _

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Disclaimer: All characters and events are based on the Harry Potter series that belong to J. K. Rowling. I do not make any money by writing this story.  
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As she gazed at Tom Riddle's soft, pallid face, she felt her forehead flush and her heart skipped a beat. His face looked smooth and polished as usual, as if his features had been delicately chiselled into a block of soap. There was no hint of a single blemish or scar anywhere on his skin, and his silky black hair looked just as perfect as the rest of his visage. Myrtle sighed dreamily, wishing that she had the courage to approach him, and perhaps even strike up a conversation.

She continued staring in his direction, gazing enviously at his friends who were seated next to him in the corner of the library. Sitting next to him on either side were Cygnus Black and Abraxas Malfoy, both extremely handsome Slytherin boys. Myrtle could also pick out Crabbe, and Avery out of the crowd of Slytherin boys, as well as the heinous Pollux Mesmer, a tall, scrawny, and intensely ugly boy with missing teeth and slanted eyes. The boy was despised and feared by nearly everyone Myrtle knew, and she could understand why. His family were strictly purebloods, and it was quite likely that Mesmer was an in-bred, judging by his hideously distorted facial features. Myrtle shuddered.

The only girl sitting at the table was one Myrtle recognized as Druella Rosier, a thin, beautiful girl with long flowing hair. Myrtle despised her especially; her snootiness, her rudeness, her arrogance toward Muggle-borns, and most of all the fact that she was Tom's friend...

Myrtle heavily sighed once more. If only Tom Riddle would look at _her_. But there was no hope; nobody would ever be attracted to spotty, plain, flat-chested Myrtle Wyndham.

Her heart heaved with longing as she continued staring at Tom. He and his friends were engrossed in what appeared to be a very serious conversation. Tom's brow was furrowed and his thin lips curled slightly into a frown. He seemed to be deep in thought and the Syltherins around him looked as though they were whispering, wishing not to be overheard. Myrtle found this extremely odd. What could they be talking about?

"Myrtle! There you are. I've been looking for you everywhere."

She turned to see a tall, busy-haired Hufflepuff take the empty seat next to her. "Hello Fiona," she replied with a sniff.

"Have you heard about the attack?"

Myrtle shook her head. "Well _everybody _is talking about it," Fiona explained, flipping her hair. "They found Percy Whitmore last night, petrified! He was found in the corridor near dinnertime, outside the girl's bathroom I heard. They're trying to keep the attack quiet though, telling everyone it had something to do with that bathroom flooding. It's rubbish really, everyone _knows _someone has been attacking students since autumn."

"That's dreadful," Myrtle responded, excited. "Who do you think it is?"

Fiona shrugged, flipping her hair once more. "They reckon it's some sort of monster, no student can petrify someone that well."

Myrtle wrinkled her nose. "I bet the attackers are in Slytherin."

"Well whoever the attackers are, they clearly hate Muggle-borns. Remember that poor Gryffindor boy that was attacked in November? Everyone knows that he was a Muggle-born, and don't forget that Ravenclaw girl was too."

"I bet it's Mesmer! Obviously there is something wrong with that boy, everyone knows it! And who else hates Muggle-borns as much as him? Or, maybe it's Olive Hornby! I really hope she gets caught, if it is her. She is such a cow."

Fiona shrugged. "Myrtle, look at what Edward bought for my birthday," she said suddenly, pulling out her wrist to show off a sparkling gold bracelet. "It looks really expensive," she drawled, "must've cost him galleons."

Myrtle felt a surge of jealousy as she looked at Fiona's bracelet. She was constantly showing off all the presents her boyfriend, Edward Weasley, kept buying for her and this irritated Myrtle vehemently. "It's lovely," she muttered in haste. She glanced over at Tom again and grew even more irritated. If only someone like him would buy Myrtle presents.

"Who do you keep looking at?"

She felt her cheeks flush. "Nobody. What are you talking about?"

"This is the third time you've looked over in that corner," Fiona smirked. She followed Myrtle's gaze toward the Slytherin table while Myrtle's face reddened. "Myrtle, do you _fancy_ a Slytherin?" She giggled suddenly, as if the thought of her having a crush on a Slytherin was hysterical.

"No, of course not!" Myrtle answered hastily.

"I think you do!" Fiona began to giggle louder. "Who it is? Malfoy? That boy sure is fit." She glanced over again to see the young Slytherin whispering to his friends, his pale blonde hair glimmering in the rays of light streaking from the window.

"No!"

"Avery, then? He's not too bad looking either. Come to think of it, those Slytherin boys are quite good-looking this year..."

"It's not Avery!" Myrtle snapped, becoming furious.

"Then who else? Wait, it's not –" Fiona cupped her hand to her mouth to stifle her giggles. "Tom Riddle? You fancy Tom Riddle?"

By now Myrtle's face had turned a deep shade of plum. "No!" she snapped again.

"Yes you do! Don't even try to lie, you've been going on about him quite a bit lately."

Myrtle didn't know how to respond, so she remained silent, her face still burning. "Well I think you should go talk to him," Fiona continued.

"No, don't be ridiculous! What would I say? He would never talk to a Hufflepuff like me," she responded glumly. "Besides, don't Slytherins hate Muggle-borns?"

"Well you never know," Fiona cajoled. "Tom Riddle is extremely polite and charming. I couldn't imagine him being rude to anyone. He's a sweetheart, really." Looking at Myrtle's unconvinced expression, she added, "and he is absolutely dashing! What could you possibly loose by going after a boy as innocent as Tom Riddle?"


	2. Bullies and Blood Traitors

Thanks to the two people who have reviewed so far! I didn't think this pairing would be too popular, but I'm really glad some people are reading it. Stephanie, thanks for correcting me on the grammar - I'll leave it there for now but I'll keep it in mind for next time. I appreciate it when people correct stuff like that because English isn't my first language and it's difficult for me to know.

Enjoy the next chapter, and please review :)

_Disclaimer: All characters and events are based on the Harry Potter series that belong to J. K. Rowling. I do not make any money by writing this story._

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_Two: Bullies and Blood-Traitors_

The gang of Slytherins quietly entered the classroom, fifteen minutes late. They had lost track of time in the library, being so preoccupied with their immensely important conversation. Professor Slughorn looked at them with slight displeasure as he asked, "where have you all been? Class has already begun."

"I'm sorry sir, but we got held up in the library," Tom Riddle explained. "We were looking for more information on those counter hexes you told us about, you see, and we lost track of time. It'll not happen again, sir."

Slughorn waved his hand. "No matter, take your seats please. Just try to ensure that you are on time from now on."

"Thank you, sir." Tom took his usual spot at the front and opened up his books. His friends followed.

"Today you may continue working on your essay compositions," Slughorn announced. "Work quietly with your group members. I have plenty of books on my desk that you may find useful, and let me know if you need any further assistance."

With that, the students scrambled around to find their partners and plunged into their textbooks. Tom pulled out his parchment and turned to his friends, Lestrange, Avery, Mesmer, and Malfoy. "That was a close one," Lestrange spoke. "I was sure Professor would give me detention, this is the third time I've been late this week."

"I bet your girlfriend is glad you don't have detention either, Tom," Pollux snickered.

Tom grimaced. "Who _was_ that beastly girl who kept staring at me in the library?"

"That was Mudblood Myrtle. She's a Hufflepuff in her third year, I believe," replied Avery with a grin. "Quite a prize, isn't she?"

"So she is a Mudblood, hideous, _and_ a Hufflepuff? Absolutely nothing going for her then, I see," Tom responded.

"That's not true," Avery protested. "She's not entirely useless; if you want to raise your divination marks you can use her face to study the constellations."

The Slytherins snickered loudly.

"So, why _were _you lot late for class?" they heard someone say behind them, "setting up more monsters to attack poor Muggle-borns?"

They turned around to see Edward Weasley, who was glaring at them as if they were something foul. "None of your damn business, Weasley," sneered Lestrange.

"It is you lot, isn't it?" Weasley continued. "I suppose you Slytherins think it's good fun to harm innocent people because of their race."

"Hey listen Weasley, you should probably get back to your Mudblood girlfriend. Maybe if you sell off some of your food stamps you can save up enough money to buy that mule some more nice potato sacks to wear," Malfoy replied. "Just like that dress robe you bought for her at the Yule Ball. Your family must have had to eat out of the garbage for months to pay for those rags, I bet."

Weasley's face turned as red as his hair. He clenched his fists and spat, "you dare to say anything else about Fiona and I'll –"

"What is going on here?" boomed Slughorn's voice. The boys looked up at once.

"Nothing, Professor," Lestrange said quickly. "We were simply discussing our essay when Edward here decided to come and bother us. It is a bit distracting actually, as we are trying to get our work done..."

Weasley looked furious. "Mr. Weasley," Slughorn replied sternly. "I would appreciate it if you would leave these boys to their work, and would strongly suggest that you get started on your own assignment. Need I remind you that you have already failed the past two quizzes? If this behaviour keeps up, I am afraid to say you will need to be disciplined."

Fuming, Edward silently returned to his seat. Slughorn seemed satisfied as he walked away, the Slytherins quietly snickering at his back. "That blood-traitor will get what's coming to him," Tom muttered to his friends under his breath.

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A few days had passed, and Myrtle had been spying on Tom since. She had found it difficult to find him since the day at the library, as he hadn't showed up there again for some reason. She didn't know when his classes were either, so it wasn't possible for her to wait around the corner when the bell rang. However, she had the opportunity to see him at mealtimes, during when she spent a good portion of the hour gazing at him and fantasizing.

"Just talk to him," Fiona urged her at dinner. "He won't bite, the worst he could do is ignore you."

"He does that already," Myrtle responded glumly. "I bet he doesn't even know who I am."

"Introduce yourself then," Fiona persisted. "Just go over there and talk to him!"

Myrtle shook her head, peering at him again. Tom was sitting with the regular casual expression on his friend. He was listening to something Rosier was saying, much to Myrtle's dismay. "Not while he's with that awful girl, anyway," she added with lucid jealousy.

Fiona laughed. "I bet he doesn't even like her. Look how bored he looks, listening to that wench."

"I don't know if he looks bored. You can never tell what he's thinking about, really, it's like he doesn't have emotions or something."

Fiona frowned. "That is a bit peculiar," she agreed.

Myrtle decided to change the topic. "Have they caught that creep who attacked Percy yet?"

"No, they don't have idea who or what did it. Edward is certain that it was one of those fifth-year Slytherins though, but there's no proof."

"I bet it is," replied Myrtle.

Fiona shook her head. "I don't know, I think he's just being paranoid. Besides, do you really think your Tom would hang around with murderers?" she teased. "The flawless prefect, Tom Riddle?"

"Of course not," Myrtle agreed. "But still, that Pollux boy..."

Their conversation slowly faded as people began scrambling out of their seats to head back to their common rooms. Myrtle was finishing her pudding, deep in contemplation. Should she talk to Tom? She wasn't a bold girl who found it easy to strike up conversations with dashing boys, but she was aching to get close to him. She didn't know how much longer she could continue merely staring at him. She needed him. She looked up at Fiona, who was busy tidying her hair in her pocket mirror, wondering if she was right. Would Tom Riddle talk to her?

"Of course not," she muttered to herself. "Why would he look at me when he could have another girl in the entire school? I should just forget about him." And with that she stood and returned to her common room.

But her curiosity persisted until the next day, until she finally reached a conclusion. She would talk to him, but that was all. Perhaps they would have a conversation, and in time maybe they could become friends...and maybe even something more. But casually saying hello wouldn't be too difficult, Myrtle reasoned; either he would reply or he wouldn't, and then she would know for certain if she had any chance with him.

Saying hello to Tom Riddle didn't make her feel any less nervous, however. She didn't know where she would find him, or what she would say to him even when she did. What if his friends were around? They would surely tease her. What could she talk to him about? The weather? Homework? Perhaps she could ask him to tutor her? No, no, that wouldn't work. Myrtle pondered this frantically all day, wandering to and fro the castle. It was a Hogsmede weekend, but she had decided to stay in the castle today for a chance to run into Tom. She had never seem him at Hogsmede and figured that he usually stayed back to finish his assignments or prefect duties.

_Maybe I should write him a letter, _she thought suddenly. It would be much easier to hand him a note than to work up the courage to actually talk to him. Excited, she rushed to her dorm to find some parchment.

She sat for what seemed like hours, with crumpled up pieces of parchment lying all over her four-poster bed. She finally finished her note expressing her infatuation for him, and left the common room. Now all she needed to do was to find Tom and work up the nerves to hand him her letter...

This task also proved to be difficult. Once more, he was not at the library. He wasn't anywhere outside either, or patrolling the corridors. Disappointed, Myrtle waited in her common room for lunchtime to come. She bolted downstairs nearly half an hour before noon and then paced around the hallways, the letter in hand. When lunch hour finally came, she rushed into the Great Hall with the regular traffic of students and anxiously took her seat. To her excitement, Tom entered alone and sat down at the Slytherin table next to Pollux. She was additionally pleased to note that Rosier was not with him.

She barely ate her lunch, staring anxiously at Tom. She would leave as soon as he got up from his seat, then wait for him in the hall. Best of all, most of the students would be either in the Great Hall or at Hogsmede, so nobody would witness this if things went awry. Myrtle was ecstatic.

"Why aren't you eating today?" a girl in second year asked her curiously.

Myrtle shrugged. "I'm not hungry."

The girl frowned slightly. "Why aren't you in Hogsmede? Everyone else is."

"I didn't go, I..." Myrtle cut herself off as she realized that Tom was leaving of his seat. "I have to go!" she said suddenly, and bolted out of the Great Hall, tightly clutching her letter.

She stood in the nearly deserted hallway, waiting anxiously. She was tense and her forehead was beginning to sweat. Was this a good idea? She suddenly felt incredibly stupid. Tom would think she was an idiot, and the letter was a ridiculous idea. _I should just go back upstairs right now and tear it_, she thought suddenly.

Her heart stopped beating, it seemed, as she abruptly caught a glimpse of Tom. He was exiting the Great Hall, and best of all, he was alone! However, he turned in the opposite direction from her and continued walking. Myrtle's heart began to thump loudly as she wondered what she should do. Should she follow him?

After a moment of pondering, she decided to run after him. "Hey!" she felt herself call before she realized what she was doing. "Excuse me!"

Tom stopped walking and turned around as Myrtle caught up to him. "Yes?" he replied, looking extremely puzzled.

Myrtle's cheeks began to burn. What was she doing? What a stupid, idiotic plan! She stood frozen, her face burning deep red as she thought of something to say. "May I help you?" he continued.

Myrtle couldn't respond. She felt as if she had been stunned, unable to utter a word. She felt as if she was going to vomit, as she stood frozen staring stupidly at Tom Riddle.

Tom was beginning to look impatient. "I really have to go, so if there is nothing –"

"H-hi," Myrtle stammered. "Um, uh, th-this letter –"

"Well, if it isn't Moaning Myrtle," she heard a mocking voice chide behind her. Myrtle felt her face burn even brighter, and wished that she could crawl into a hole and hide. It was Olive Hornby, surrounded by her group of Ravenclaws.

"Why weren't you at Hogsmede, four-eyes?" Olive continued.

Myrtle suddenly felt overwhelmingly self-conscious about her large, round spectacles. She was sweating furiously now, and her hand was shaking. "I-I wasn't f-feeling well..."

"Oh what's going on here? Is that – is that a love letter, four-eyes?"

The other Ravenclaws snickered. Myrtle was avoiding looking up at Tom, who was looking as confused as ever yet slightly interested. Myrtle's hand quickly jerked to conceal the letter, but Olive was too swift. She pulled it out of Myrtle's grip, who loudly shrieked, "NO!"

Olive unfolded the letter and snickered. "It _is_ a love letter! And isn't this sweet, it looks like she _fancies _Tom Riddle!"

Tears were beginning to run down Myrtle's face by now, and she stood there trembling. "No, no I don't," she protested. She wished that Tom would leave; the scene was humiliating enough without him gawking at her and her letter. "No, please don't read it," she trembled, but Olive ignored her wishes.

"Dear Tom," she read in a mocking imitation of Myrtle's voice. "I think you are –"

"What's all this?" said a deep grunting voice with a heavy Yorkshire accent. Myrtle looked up to see Pollux Mesmer, which made her tears flow even more. Olive looked delighted.

"Mudblood Myrtle fancies Tom," explained one of Olive's friends. "And she has written him a love letter!"

Mesmer roared with laughter. "Heh, let's hear it then!"

Myrtle couldn't remember being this humiliated in her entire life. This was all her fault, her own stupid fault for writing the letter...

But miraculously, Olive barely got the chance to complete reading the first sentence when Professor Dippet approached. "What is going on here?" he demanded, alarmed to see Myrtle sobbing.

Olive turned pale. "Nothing sir, we were just –"

"Bullying other students is not acceptable, Miss Hornby! I will see you in my office at once," Professor Dipped replied sternly. A crowd had formed around them now, wondering what was happening. Myrtle suddenly realized that Tom wasn't there anymore, which cheered her up very slightly. "Move along now," Professor shouted to the others. "There is nothing to see here!" Then, turning to Olive he continued, "I believe you have something that belongs to Miss Wyndham."

Myrtle snatched the letter from the girl's hands and raced up the stairs, completely mortified. As soon as she got to the nearest bathroom, she locked herself in a stall, tossed the crumpled up piece of parchment into the toilet, and sat down, weeping.


	3. At Peril's Imminence

_Three: At Peril's Imminence _

_Disclaimer: All characters and events are based on J. K Rowling's Harry Potter Series, which I do not own. I do not make any money by writing this story._

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_Myrtle remained locked in her bathroom stall for hours, sobbing uncontrollably. Her hair was a tangled mess, and there was a trail of snot running down her robes. Her eyes were red, and her cheeks puffed and pink as she sat quivering on the toilet.

How could she have been so utterly stupid? Of course Tom Riddle would reject her; anyone in his right mind would! No boy had ever been interested in her. What in the world had made her think that gorgeous and brilliant Tom Riddle, of all the boys in the castle, would ever even consider talking to her?

A fresh stream of tears escaped Myrtle's puffy eyes. She wiped her nose with her sleeve as she wailed. And now Tom knew how she felt about him. How would she ever be able to face him now? And as if it wasn't already mortifying enough, even Olive Hornby and all her friends knew! They would never live this down! They would tease her about her crush for the rest of her time at Hogwarts.

Myrtle sniffed. Oh, how she hated that Olive Hornby! She had been making her life intolerable ever since her first day at Hogwarts. Myrtle despised her entirely; her entire body shook with loathing as she thought about that horrid wench. Worst of all was the fact that everybody else seemed to like her. Olive had many friends, good looks, perfect grades, and a handful of admirers; Myrtle, on the other hand, was plain and pimply, had to work _so _hard to receive mediocre marks at best, and had no companion other than Fiona.

Her abrupt burst of anger toward Olive quickly transpired into self-loathing. _Nobody likes me,_ she thought, _they all hate me. They all make fun of poor, ugly, stupid Muggle-born Myrtle. _

Myrtle let out another resounding wail, her sharp cry bouncing off the dim chamber walls. A few more hours passed lugubriously...

She heard the door open and suddenly stopped wailing. "Who is it?" she called. Half a dozen students had already attempted to use the loo, and had evidently changed their minds immediately at the sound of Myrtle's loud, echoing sobs. Nobody had bothered to enter the toilets since then.

"Myrtle! There you are!"

Myrtle resumed sobbing at the sound of Fiona's voice. "Get away!" she moaned. "Just let me be!"

She heard Fiona's footsteps draw closer, and within moments she was standing outside her stall. "Don't be foolish," Fiona responded. "Come out, Myrtle, this is ridiculous."

"Ridiculous?" shrieked Myrtle. "How would you know? It was the most mortifying thing that has ever happened to me! Olive will never let it down. I am not coming out."

"Olive has detention for a week for what she did!" Fiona exclaimed. "She won't say anything, Professor Dippet won't let her. So come out!"

"No! So what if she doesn't say anything? Everybody else will tease me! They were all there! Forget it, I am never coming out. I'll write to mum tonight and tell her I'm coming home."

Fiona sounded exasperated. "Come out, Myrtle. I mean it. Edward and I are going to have dinner in the Gryffindor common room, and you should come with us. Professor Dippet gave us permission so that nobody will bother you there. We can get back to our dormitory before dinnertime is over, and by the time you wake up tomorrow this whole thing will have blown over!"

Myrtle was still unconvinced. "It will never blow over," she bawled. "And besides – how will I ever face Tom now? He knows I fancy him. I should have never listened to you! What a stupid idea it was to tell him that I like him!"

She blew her nose loudly, again wiping it with her now slimy robes. "You don't have to face Tom again, you rarely see him around the castle anyway!" Fiona snapped, frustrated. "Besides, he is a jerk if he let Olive insult you like that without doing anything. Isn't he a prefect? He just stood there and did nothing; he should have his badge taken!"

Myrtle didn't respond. "Now come on Myrtle, please. Let's just go get dinner and we can worry about this tomorrow."

"No, you go. I'm staying," Myrtle responded firmly.

Fiona sighed. "Fine. If I can't convince you, then... I will just see you tomorrow... But we are definitely not done talking about this." She turned and left.

Perhaps if Myrtle had been aware then that this would be the last time she would ever talk to her friend again, she would have complied.

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It was nearly ten-thirty. Myrtle's stomach was growling. "I should have listened to Fiona," she muttered to herself. "I'm starving...should've at least asked her to bring up a sandwich or some crisps..."

She knew she looked awful. Dried snot covered the entire front of her robes as well as her sleeve. Her eyes were still puffy and red, but she had stopped sobbing for now. "It'll be a miracle if I can manage to sneak up to the castle without anyone noticing me," she grumbled.

The more she thought about it, the more she wished she had listened to her friend. Nobody would have seen her if she had simply followed her up to the Gryffindor common room, and she would have gotten a chance to get some food. She hadn't eaten lunch today either, and her stomach was churning loudly. Worst of all, dinner was over and even if she managed to sneak into the Great Hall there would be no food left.

Her stomach growled again. Perhaps she had a few liquorice wands or some chocolate cauldrons stashed away in her dormitory?

Myrtle was about to gather her things to leave, when she heard footsteps coming from outside her stall. "Fiona!" she exclaimed, delighted. "I didn't even hear the door open! I was just going to come upstairs, do you have anything to ea –"

She suddenly froze. It wasn't Fiona's footsteps she was hearing. Somebody else was in there, whispering something in a strange, unfamiliar language...The words sounded eerie and haunting, kind of like a hissing sound...Most peculiar of all was the voice of the person who was muttering the strange words. _It was a boy._

"Hello?" she called, suddenly terrified. "Is somebody in here?"

There was no response.

Myrtle felt a dreadful chill crawling up her spine. The room seemed suddenly darker and quieter than it had seemed before. Her hairs were standing erect over her arms. She stood still.

"Hello?" she called again. "If – if this is a boy – you shouldn't be in here..."

But there was still no response. Perhaps she had simply imagined she had heard voices, Myrtle concluded. After all, she was extremely hungry – maybe her mind was playing tricks on her.

Slightly comforted, Myrtle grabbed her things and unlocked the door. She would dart to her common room, she decided, just in case...

But she had no chance to run, for the moment she opened the stall door, her bag fell to the floor and her entire body froze in shock. She stood motionless with her eyes and jaws wide open in horror, gazing at the figure standing in front of her.


	4. The Prince in Emerald Robes

_Disclaimer: All characters and events are based on the Harry Potter series owned by J.K. Rowling. I do not make any money by writing this story._

Thank you so much for the people who have been reviewing! Enjoy the next chapter, and I will put up more shortly :)

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_Four: The Prince in Emerald Robes_

"You!" she gasped.

Tom froze. "What are you doing in here? This is the _girl's _bathroom!" she exclaimed.

"I, uh, was looking for you," Tom fibbed quickly. "I heard you were crying, and I was just checking to make sure you were doing alright."

The girl looked utterly thrilled at these words. She emerged from her toilet stall and walked to toward him. Tom looked at her with disgust; the Mudblood's entire face was red, her eyes wet, and her clothes coated in tears and sticky globs of mucus. She looked much worse than she normally did, and she wasn't exactly a delight to look at on her good days either.

"Oh Tom, it was _dreadful_!" she cried. "I've been crying the entire day! That Olive Hornby is just _awful!_"

Tom cringed. He had not meant to be caught sneaking around the bathroom, yet the Mudblood had found him and he was now doomed to listen to her tedious wailing. _I should have been quicker, _he scolded himself. It was highly unusual for him to be so foolish, but he had not counted on anyone being here. "Yes, it was quite horrid," he responded without any show of genuine concern.

The girl seemed overjoyed to hear him agree, evidently ignoring his lack of sympathy. "She is an absolute wench! I never did anything to her, but she has made my life _miserable_." Then, to Tom's annoyance, she began to sob.

He glared at her in disgust as she blew her nose into her own sleeve. His mood darkened as she continued her wailing, pausing routinely to describe Hornby's alleged nastiness in tiresome detail. Tom grew more and more irritated as precious minutes passed. He considered leaving her there and heading back to his common room, but didn't dare take the risk. It was already suspicious for him to be wandering in girl's bathrooms at this time of the night, and he definitely did not want anyone to connect his presence here to what was lying just down the corridor...

"...and, and, she called me a _Mudblood_ too!" he heard her howl. "Fiona told me that it's a horrible name to call a Muggle-born. I bet she's the one behind those attacks!"

The corners of Tom's mouth drew into an amused smirk. "Perhaps she is," he agreed.

"I bet it is her!" she exclaimed. "Edward thought it was a Slytherin, because they're all Purebloods. But I wasn't sure. I mean, you don't hate Muggle-borns, do you? And you're Pureblood."

"I'm a Half-blood," he corrected her hastily. "Father was a Muggle."

"So not all Slytherins are terrible," the Mudblood continued.

Tom rolled his eyes impatiently. His boredom was increasing with each second. He cut her off as she began complaining once more about Hornby. "Listen, nobody cares what she says. Just forget about her."

"Nobody cares?!" she shrieked. "Of course they care about what she says, everybody _loves _that atrocious wench! Everybody!"

"I don't. I think that she's nasty and untalented, in fact."

The Mudblood sniffed. "Really?"

Tom nodded. "Yes, so don't mind what she said. Come, I will walk you to your common room. It is beginning to get late, and I am finished my patrolling duties for the night."

Fortunately she wouldn't be able to find out that he wasn't on patrol this night, and that he was supposed to be in his dormitory at the moment finishing Slughorn's essay, as he had told the others...

The Mudblood wiped off her tears with her filthy snot-stained sleeves. "Alright. Thanks Tom." She picked up her bag and walked out the door Tom held open for her. Tom followed her.

"No, wait," he stopped her suddenly. "Let's go this way instead."

The Mudblood looked at him curiously. "Why? It's faster to take this hallway."

"Yes, but...a longer walk would be nice, wouldn't it?"

She nodded, excited. "I really like you, Tom," she gushed as she followed him.

It took Tom a considerable amount of effort to mask his disgust at those words. "Thank you," he answered politely.

"You're such a gentleman. And you're much nicer than Edward Weasley."

Tom snickered. "Yes, I hope so," he replied as they turned to another corridor.

"Oh, wait till I tell Fiona that I talked to you!" she squealed. "She will absolutely die!"

This amused Tom. "Perhaps she is already dead," he muttered under his breath.

"What?"

"Nothing. Here we are, the Hufflepuff common room."

The girl looked slightly disappointed. "Thanks for walking with me. You're really great..."

She stared at him for a few moments, which made him uneasy. She gazed at him with an admiring expression on her face, as if she was waiting for him to do something. Tom shuddered. _I hope she isn't thinking of _kissing _me, _he thought grimly. "Don't mention it. Goodbye," he said quickly before she had any atrocious ideas.

"Good night, Tom," she said dreamily, still gazing at him.

He walked down to the dungeons triumphantly. This would teach Weasley to stick his nose into matters in which it didn't belong. Tom smirked as he thought about that hideous Muggle-born girl Weasley was dating. He wasn't particularly fond of her; she was an arrogant witch who was always examining her ugly face in her pocket-mirror. Hopefully the Basilisk had finished her off completely. Satisfied with his work, Tom Riddle entered his dormitory.

* * *

Myrtle was bouncing with exhilaration as she entered her common room. She had actually talked to Tom Riddle! Ravishing, brilliant, Tom Riddle; her Slytherin prince! She squealed with delight. Where was Fiona? Myrtle couldn't wait to tell her what had happened.

She gazed around the common room but caught no glimpse of her friend. "Where's Fiona?" she asked a group of girls in her year.

They shrugged. "I haven't seen her all day," one of them answered.

Myrtle giggled. "She must still be with Edward, then. I wonder what they're doing!"

She skipped off to her dormitory, more cheerful than she had been in a long time.


	5. An Ill Fated Day

Thank you for your reviews again, spauthor and Pearl's beauty. I'm glad you guys are enjoying the story, although I wish more people were reading it. And yes, there will be lots more Myrtle/Tom scenes :)

Also, just to clarify, most of the characters are from the novel. Lestrange and Avery are said to be the very first death eaters, and Druella Rosier and Cygnus Black are the parents of Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa. Abraxas Malfoy is obviously Draco's grandfather, and it said in the 6th book that he died of Dragon pox. Olive Hornby is the girl who used to bully Myrtle, and it said in the 2nd book that Myrtle was crying in the bathroom because Olive made fun of her glasses when she died. I made up Edward Weasley, but it's obvious who he's related to. Fiona and Pollux are entirely mine, as well as any minor characters that might show up. Enjoy!

_Disclaimer: All characters and events are based on the Harry Potter series owned by J. K. Rowling. I do not make any money by writing this story._

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_Five: An Ill-Fated Day_

Myrtle was ecstatic when she awoke the next morning. She had actually talked to Tom Riddle! And he had been just as perfect as she had imagined; polite, charming, caring, and completely irresistible. She squealed as she got dressed, imagining the look on Fiona's face when she would tell her the news. Tom Riddle was ten times more handsome than Edward Weasley, that was for sure!

She grabbed her bag and hurried into the common room. A few people were scattered around the fire, but Fiona wasn't there. "Lily," she called to a girl in her year. "Have you seen Fiona?"

The girl shook her head. "Not since yesterday."

"_Well,_ I just have an amazing bit of gossip to share with her," Myrtle drawled proudly.

A few people around them glanced up, looking slightly interested.

"What is it?" Lily asked curiously. "Is it about the attacker?"

"No, it's just that I spent last night with none other than _Tom Riddle_!" Myrtle grinned widely, waiting for everyone to proclaim their envy. Much to her disappointment, nobody did.

A girl sitting next to Lily snorted. "Yeah, right. Perhaps in your dreams."

"But it's true!" Myrtle pouted. "He walked me to the common room and everything!"

But everyone had lost interest and went back to what they had been doing. "It's true! I swear! And – and he almost _kissed _me!"

A few Hufflepuffs chuckled but nobody else bothered to look up. Myrtle stamped her foot impatiently. "Fine! I'll go tell someone that does believe me."

She picked up her bag and headed to the Great Hall. She proceeded to the Hufflepuff table, but was disappointed to see that Fiona wasn't there either. She glanced over at the Gryffindor table, but Edward wasn't there either. To her further annoyance, the Slytherin table was also relatively empty. She sat down grumpily and began to eat her toast. Just her luck that on the one day Myrtle had great news to share, she couldn't find her best friend anywhere.

When she headed off to Transfiguration class, she was shocked to see that Fiona still hadn't managed to turn up. She sat in her seat, puzzled, wondering if she was perhaps late. Where could she possibly be?

Myrtle didn't have to wait long to receive an answer, for at that moment, Professor Dumbledore approached her desk silently, looking solemn. "Miss Wyndham, I deeply lament to inform you that there is some bad news..."

* * *

"Tom! Wait!"

He gritted his teeth as he recognized that awful high-pitched voice. He turned around with a pleasant smile forced on his lips. "Hello."

The Mudblood came rushing towards him, pushing past the other students that were scurrying in the hallway. "Tom," she panted when she finally reached him. She gasped for breath. Her eyes were wide with fright. "Did you hear – the attack – Oh, it's awful!"

"I have no idea what you are saying," Tom responded calmly. "However, I really must head off to class. See you later, then."

He turned to leave with his friends but she stopped him. "No, wait! Tom, there's been another attack, just last night! This time they attacked – F-Fi- Fiona's been petrified!" her eyes turned even wider and she looked as if she was about to cry.

Tom faced her impatiently. "Is that so?"

"But that's not all," she went on, her voice beginning to quiver. "Whoever did this – it was right down the corridor from the girl's bathroom - _the one we were in_."

Tom frowned. "Well, that is quite strange. But I didn't see anything at all last night. They must have struck very late at night, after all the prefects had gone off to bed."

A tear gently rolled down the Mudblood's face. "They – they found her holding her mirror in one hand –"

Tom scowled in disappointment. "- and a sandwich in the other. She was bringing me some food in the bathroom, and..."

The Mudblood trailed off as a stream of liquid came flowing under her large glasses. Suddenly, she threw herself on to Tom, swinging her arms around him and sobbing.

Tom stepped back in disgust and pulled her off him. A few people glanced at them curiously as they walked past. He knew that Pollux and Malfoy were snickering behind him.

"It'll be fine, don't worry," he found himself mutter. "She'll be fine, has only been petrified."

"But it's my entire fault!" she sobbed. "It wouldn't have happened if I had agreed to have dinner with her and Edward." And like the previous night, she loudly blew her nose into her sleeve as Tom grimaced. "Are you sure that you didn't see anything last night?"

"I told you, I saw nothing."

Myrtle frowned for a moment, as if remembering something. "Wait, remember when you were walking me to my dorm? You didn't want to walk down that corrid-"

Tom cut her off. "You are worrying too much, Mildred. Just leave it be. Things will turn around."

"Myrtle," she corrected him, but fortunately decided not to complete her previous sentence. She suddenly looked excited. "Did you have a class in there?" she asked, gazing at the empty Defence Against the Dark Arts room.

"Yes. And if you will excuse me now, I must get going."

"Alright. Now I'll know where to find you at this time tomorrow!" she exclaimed happily.

Tom groaned to himself. "Yes, yes. Goodbye, Madison."

He turned away from her quickly and joined his friends. "What was all that about?" Malfoy snickered.

"Nothing at all," Tom replied in annoyance.

"She really does fancy you, doesn't she?" smirked Lestrange. "You should take her out. Maybe you can use her somehow."

Tom turned to him in disgust. "There is absolutely _nothing _that I would use that Mudblood for."

"I don't know," smirked Pollux. "I wouldn't mind a shag with her. I'd give it to her rough and brutal. Hold that hideous bitch down and choke her, and then fuck her while she's under the Cruciatus cruse, that's what I'd like to do."

The others laughed, although they were slightly disturbed. Tom, however, didn't crack a smile. "I wouldn't touch a Mudblood on any occasion," he answered coldly. "Even if it was for torture."

The others became silent as they followed him to Potions. "And like I said," he continued. "She is of no use to me."


	6. The Solace of Delusion

Thanks again to my two faithful reviewers. And yes, spauthor, those were both typos and I have fixed them now. Thank you for letting me know.

_Disclaimer: All characters and events are based on the Harry Potter series owned by J. K. Rowling. I do not make any money by writing this story._

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_Six: The Solace of Delusion_

Myrtle certainly missed Fiona, but found Tom to be an ever better companion. Now that she knew when some of his classes were, she would wait for him in the corridor near the end of the period. Tom was every bit as extraordinary as she had imagined; even more so, perhaps. He always listened to her problems with undivided attention, never once uttering a word of complaint. He never spoke of himself or bragged, as Fiona used to do. He was always gentle, kind, and patient, and whenever he would speak, her legs would turn to gelatine and her heart would melt.

Best of all, Olive was no longer around to tease her. Myrtle had heard that she had gotten in a lot of trouble with Professor Dippet for bullying Myrtle, and she had evidently been avoiding her since the incident. It was almost a pity, thought Myrtle, as she had been looking forward to seeing Olive's face when she strolled around the castle with Tom Riddle.

However, she supposed that she hadn't exactly been hanging out with Tom. In fact, the only time he really talked to her was whenever she cornered him after his lessons. He never himself approached her, although he never turned her away either. Myrtle lay on her bed, pondering his odd behaviour. Was he hiding something? Was he just not good at talking to girls? Or did he have feelings for...someone else?

She scowled as she pictured him with that awful Slytherin girl. He was always talking and laughing whenever he was with _her_. And she was the only girl whom he typically hung around. Myrtle gritted her teeth in jealousy. Why wouldn't he spend that much time with _her_?

Myrtle forced these thoughts out of her mind. Tom was probably just shy. He was a peculiar boy in general, she concluded. She knew that he was fairly reserved and quiet and that he typically kept to himself. He probably just had difficulty opening up to others. In fact, as soon as he became more acquainted with Myrtle, he would probably be more open with her as well. Myrtle was thrilled as she considered this possibility. If she began spending more time with Tom, maybe he would begin to like her!

Myrtle sat up, grinning. All she needed to do was to figure out how to break Tom's icy exterior, and perhaps they could become even better friends than he was with Druella Rosier...

* * *

Tom's week had been lousy. He had heard from Professor Slughorn that Professor Dippet and the rest of the staff were in frenzy due to the attacks that had been occurring. Of course Professor Slughorn hadn't mentioned to him anything at all about the Chamber of Secrets, and it seemed as though all the teachers were trying their best not to acknowledge the possibility of there even _being_ a Chamber of Secrets. This didn't surprise Tom a bit; everyone was far too terrified at the idea of there being a vicious Muggle-born attacking monster hidden somewhere in the castle, that they found it easier to simply pretend that it didn't exist. He snarled in distaste. How typical of those pathetic Mudblood-loving leeches to fear what they could not control, then to go as far as ignoring something that was so blatantly present just to maintain their own pathetic delusions...Tom had nothing but contempt for such weak fools, who were so frightened to face dissonance that they were willing to deny lucid reality.

But this was nothing surprising. Tom was accustomed to people being weak, useless fools, but it was something else that Professor Slughorn had said that was bothering him...

He had stayed behind to ask him a question about his essay. As was typical, Slughorn had been delighted to help out his favourite student. After ten irritating minutes had been wasted listening to the answer of a question he already knew, Tom had decided to interrupt the teacher.

"Professor? I – I heard about that poor Hufflepuff girl that was attacked a few nights ago," he had begun, careful to forge frightened concern in his voice. "I was near that corridor that night, and I – It's been bothering me since then that I hadn't done anything to save her..."

Slughorn waved his hand at him. "Don't worry yourself, boy. There is nothing you could have done. It's just a shame that you weren't there in time. Don't blame yourself."

Tom nodded reluctantly. "Sir – have they caught the person who has done this?"

Slughorn sighed with the outmost grief, sitting down at his desk. "To tell you the truth, Tom, nobody has any idea who could have possibly done something like this. Since fall these attacks have been occurring, yet not a single person knows who is behind them."

"But, surely _someone _must have an idea about what's going on. I mean, we will catch the culprit, won't we?"

"Tom, Tom, Tom." Slughorn shook his head in lamentation, looking extremely exhausted. "There is nothing you can do, my boy, so don't worry yourself over this."

There was a pause until Tom softly asked again. "Professor, what is the Chamber of Secrets?"

Professor Slughorn's head jerked up sharply. "What? What have you heard?" he asked at once.

"Nothing," Tom assured him quickly. "I mean, I'm sure it's just a myth, but –"

"And that's all it is, now don't go spewing off rubbish about ridiculous stories! I've told you already that there is nothing you can do in these matters, so don't try to get involved in all this nonsense. And don't tell anyone what I have told you!"

"Alright, Professor," Tom answered rapidly. "Don't worry, I won't tell anybody. Thank you for your help, sir."

He rose from his seat, clutching his books. Professor Slughorn returned to his melancholic state as he sighed once more. "Of course, Tom. You're...you're a good boy." He smiled at Tom wearily.

Tom had turned and begun to leave, when Professor had spoken again.

"I just hope that they find whoever is behind all this soon, before they decide to shut the school down for good."

This is when Tom's stomach had dropped, and all his relief had dissipated.


	7. Neglected Warnings

_Disclaimer: All events and characters are based on the Harry Potter series owned by J.K. Rowling. I do not make any money by writing this story. _

Thanks again to the (three) people who reviewed. To answer your comments, yes there will be plenty more Myrtle/Tom interactions. And yes, Myrtle is unfortunately delusion and it will cost her her life (as stated in the summary). As to the person who commented that they had never read any of this pairing before, I agree that it is an uncommon pairing, and I'm glad that you are enjoying my story!

Some (minor) spoilers: Tom's journal will be in this story later on. Also, Tom will be a dynamic character. This means that he will change in some significant way throughout the story...perhaps he will fall in love? ;)

The next chapter is very important for the story, and in my opinion the best one I've written so far. So stay posted, enjoy the chapter, and continue reviewing!

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_Seven: Neglected Warnings_

In divination class, Tom explained to his friends what Slughorn had told him. "They're thinking of shutting the school down?" gasped Druella.

Tom nodded grimly. "Unless if the attacks stop, of course..."

"And they have no idea who is behind them?" Malfoy asked.

"No, Slughorn said that nobody has any clue." Tom's lips curled into a thin smirk as he watched the others' blank faces.

"Do you think it's Pollux?" Druella whispered.

Tom smirked once more, which again went unnoticed. "Nonsense," Malfoy replied. "If it was him, he would have already driven us insane with his bragging. Besides, he definitely isn't clever enough to attack that many Mudbloods without getting caught."

"I wish I knew who it was, I'd give him a pat on the back," Cygnus snickered. "Six filthy Mudbloods attacked...such a pity that none have died yet...I wish it had gotten Weasel, but his nasty Mudblood girlfriend is good enough. And that annoying git hasn't bothered us in a while since he hasn't come to class after that whore got petrified. Whoever did this should get an award for special services to the school!"

Tom didn't look up, although he was grinning to himself. For a moment none of them spoke, while Tom was deep in contemplation. _Should I say anything? Perhaps it would be good if I tell them..._

He cleared his throat. "I think I know who it might be," he said quietly.

Malfoy, Cygnus, and Rosier looked up at him at the same time. "Who?" Druella hissed, her dark blue eyes open wide.

Tom lowered his voice to ensure that no one else was listening to their conversation. "Do you know that Gryffindor boy by the name of Rubeus?"

"That half-breed oaf? He couldn't have done it, he can barely do a levitation charm," Cygnus snarled. "There is no way that he could manage to attack someone, let alone get away with it six times!"

"It's not a student that has been attacking the Muggle-borns," Tom responded firmly. "It's a monster. And it's not much of a secret that Rubeus has an obsession with dangerous creatures, is it? I wouldn't be surprised if he has been hiding a few monsters of his own. All he would need to do is accidently set them loose. And knowing that humongous clod, isn't it possible that he became clumsy on a few occasions and didn't watch them properly?"

The others were silently. "I mean, I'm not saying it's him," Tom continued. "But it's just a thought. It could be anyone, right?"

"Perhaps," Cygnus finally replied, although he still looked unconvinced. "I guess it _is _a possibility."

"That's a shame," Druella answered, looking disappointed. "If the attacker was an exquisite Slytherin boy...well, let's just say that I would reward him _personally_..."

The others laughed, while Tom went slightly pink in the face.

* * *

"Myrtle!"

She turned around to see Edward hurrying to her. "How are you doing?" she called to him. "I heard that you haven't been to class since – well, you know."

Edward caught up to her, panting. "I've been better, that's for sure," he answered grimly. "What are you doing?"

"Waiting for _someone_," she answered brightly in a sing-song voice.

He frowned. "I sure hope that it's not Tom Riddle again."

Myrtle scowled. "Why not? He's great. He's so sweet, and polite, and –"

"He's a Slytherin!"

"So? Not all Slytherins are bad," Myrtle protested.

Edward shook his head. "I have a bad feeling about him. I can't explain it, but I bet he's up to no good. He probably knows who attacked – " he stopped talking and gulped. "He must know. I just don't want anybody else to get hurt."

"You don't know him like I do. Tom's different. I talked to him about Fiona, and he seemed just as horrified to hear about what happened."

"Just be careful," Edward warned her. "I still don't think you should trust him. But be careful. Fiona was lucky that she was only petrified. I can't imagine if she had – " he broke off again.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine," Myrtle assured him. "See you later, Edward."

He nodded curtly and walked away. The bell rang at that moment, and Myrtle let out a squeal as she watched students pile out of the classroom she was waiting by. Tom was the last one to emerge, accompanied by Malfoy and Black, as well as that awful girl. Myrtle scowled as she watched them talking, then hurried over to them to interrupt their conversation.

"Hi Tom," she greeted him enthusiastically.

Tom looked down at her with an odd expression on his face. "Um, hello."

To her annoyance, he turned right back to Rosier and began talking once more. "Tom," Myrtle said impatiently. "Will you walk me to class?"

"I'm afraid I'm rather busy at the moment, Minerva, but perhaps another time."

Myrtle gritted her teeth. It was all Rosier's fault that he wasn't paying attention to her!

"Listen Tom, we've got to get to Herbology. I'll talk to you later," Druella spoke up. "Cheers."

Tom waved goodbye to his friends as they turned the opposite direction. Myrtle hurried after him. "Tom!"

He looked at her again. "What is it now?"

"Do you – do you want to go out sometime? The Hogsmede weekend is coming up in two weeks. Do you, um, would you like to go with me?" Myrtle's face turned scarlet as she realized what she had just done.

Tom was silent for a moment. "I can't go," he answered flatly.

Myrtle's heart sunk. "Is it because you're busy? I've never seen you at Hogsmede before, come to think of it. Are you busy with prefect duties? Is that why you can't come?"

Tom looked irritated at her persistence. "No. I'm not allowed to go because I have nobody to sign my permission form for me, if you must know."

"What? What about your parents?"

"They're dead," he snapped.

Myrtle's eyes grew wide. "I'm so sorry," she said quickly, shocked. "I had no idea-"

"Just forget about it. Now if you will please leave me alone, I have to get to class!" And he stormed away, as Myrtle watched in embarrassment.


	8. The Beast Emerges

_Disclaimer: All characters and events are based on the Harry Potter series owned by J.K. Rowling. I do not make any money by writing this story._

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__Eight: The Beast Emerges _

Despite the awkwardness of their previous conversation, Myrtle persisted on attempting to talk to Tom again. The only problem was that he had now become impossible to find. She could no longer find him at mealtimes, nor could she spot him coming out of his classes when she waited in the corridor. Myrtle found this rather peculiar. Was he trying to avoid her?

Of course he was! Myrtle felt foolish as she realized what was going on. Tom must have been humiliated when he had told her about his parents. It was tragic enough that he was an orphan, but to have the information forced out of him so publically...Of course he didn't want to speak to Myrtle! He was probably furious.

She paced around her dormitory several times, ashamed about what she had done. Poor, sweet, Tom. She had never imagined that he had experienced something so appalling. A small teardrop escaped from her eye as she paced in guilt. She had to find him soon, and apologize for having been so inconsiderate. "Oh, poor Tom," she murmured to herself.

Anxiously she left the Hufflepuff common room in hopes of finding Tom. It was only six in the evening; perhaps he was eating his dinner early. Myrtle headed into the Great Hall, but left only minutes later after finding the Slytherin nearly empty. She paced around the castle anxiously, wishing that she knew where Tom could be. She spotted Edward in the library, who looked lonely and troubled as he browsed through a shelf of books. She hurried over to him, whispering "hello".

Edward merely glanced at her before his eyes fell back on the bookshelf. "What are you looking for?" Myrtle asked curiously.

"Have you ever heard of something called the Chamber of Secrets?" he asked her.

Myrtle frowned. "Well, a little bit – but it's just a myth, Edward. Everyone knows that."

He shook his head frantically. "I don't think it's a myth," he said quietly.

"What do you mean? A secret chamber hidden somewhere deep inside Hogwarts – I highly doubt that's possible. I mean, wouldn't someone had found it by now?"

"I've looked it up," Edward argued. "Salzaar Slytherin built it somewhere nobody would be able to find. He hid the most horrifying and gruesome monster anyone has ever heard of. It can kill people – and those who don't die are severely petrified." He trembled as he spoke the last word. "I'm trying to find out what that creature is."

But Myrtle was still unconvinced. "I think you're upset about Fiona, so you're making too much out of this," she said slowly. "I can't imagine something like this being possible. And all the teachers say –"

"They're trying to hide something, can't you see?" he spat suddenly. Myrtle's eyes widened as she drew back from him. Edward suddenly looked ashamed.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "You're right. I am upset over all this. So, what are you doing here?"

Myrtle decided not to mention Tom, fearing that he would lash out again. "Oh, just wandering around," she answered.

Edward nodded without much interest. "Listen, be careful around the castles, alright? And let me know if you find out anything. Even if the Chamber of Secrets doesn't exist...well, it's good to know for sure."

Myrtle nodded as she left the library. She continued down the hallway when she saw a couple of Slytherins approaching in her direction. Her heart began to beat with excitement, until she realized that it was only Abraxas and Pollux. Tom was not with them. After a slight hesitation, she made up her mind to talk to them.

"Excuse me," she said in a tiny voice. When they did not look up, she spoke louder. "Excuse me!"

The two boys glanced at her and began to snicker. "Oi, it's Tom's little girlfriend, isn't it?" Pollux replied in amusement. He grinned widely, displaying his yellow teeth that were crooked and broken.

Myrtle blushed. "What do you want, Mudblood?" Malfoy snarled.

Her mouth dropped open at his rudeness. How could Tom hang around such jerks? Angrily she asked, "where's Tom?"

Pollux snickered even louder. "How would we know, stupid girl?" Malfoy snapped again. "Now piss off and don't talk to us again."

Myrtle ignored him. "You're his friends. You must know where he is!"

"For your information, Tom never tells any of us where he is or what he's up to, although it's none of your business anyway, Mudblood. And he really doesn't like it when you keep bothering him, so I suggest you leave him alone."

Myrtle's frustration increased. "Heh, have some manners, Malfoy!" chuckled Pollux. "I think Tommy went outside for a little walk, honey. But until then, I wouldn't mind havin' a shag with you, doll." He grinned again at Myrtle and tugged at one of her pigtails.

Her face contorted into a look of utter disgust. "Ew! Don't touch me!"

She turned away from them quickly and hurried down the hall. She could hear them howling with laughter behind her back, which she decided to ignore. _Those awful Slytherins! Tom really needs some better friends, _she thought. She reached the front doors of the castle and walked outside.

Immediately a gust of wind blew at her face. She shivered, buttoning her cloak. It was the beginning of March, but it was still quite chilly. It had already begun to get dark as well. Myrtle hurried through the school yard, hoping that Pollux hadn't lied to her about Tom being outside. As she wandered through the grass, she realized that he probably had. After all, what would Tom be doing outside at this time?

Her teeth chattered as she walked on. The castle suddenly seemed far away and its shadow looked fascinatingly eerie...Myrtle remembered Edward telling her to be careful...the wind behind her howled in melancholy. She felt strangely alone in the impending darkness of the bleak sky, knowing that she was foolish to be wandering around by herself when danger was so nigh...

She stood shivering, willing herself to turn back. Obviously Pollux had tricked her into coming down here. But she found her feet glued to the ground in terror. It had gotten darker since she had come outside, and she could only faintly make out the outline of the castle. Her heart pounded in her ears as she tried to work up the courage to continue walking. Yet she remained in the spot, terrified.

She heard footsteps. They were coming from behind her. Her eyes opened wide and she stood frozen to the ground. Her face turned white. She had stopped shivering now; her entire body stood frigid as the footsteps grew closer and closer. _Run Myrtle, run!_ She pleaded to herself to sprint away as fast as she could, but her body did not obey her. Tears silently slipped down her face as she stood in the darkness in absolute fright.

And then it was right behind her.

She let out a piercing shriek that echoed in the darkness surrounding her. She kept on screaming, her own voice stabbing her ears and making her blood turn cold. Tears cascaded from her eyes.

"What the hell are you doing?" a deep voice yelled. "_Lumos!"_

A little ray of light suddenly appeared and Myrtle stopped screaming. "Tom!"

He looked at her, puzzled. She began crying once more, wondering if she had ever been this pleased to run into him. Even in the dark he looked stunning; the light of his wand reflected on his face, illuminating his smooth features. His hair was messily strewn over his forehead, giving him a boyish charm. His pale eyes pierced her sharply as he looked as confused as ever. "What is going on?"

Myrtle sniffed. "I came here to find you. I've been feeling awful about our last conversation. Then your friends told me you were outside so I came to apologize."

Tom looked at her as if she was insane, but he said nothing. Myrtle suddenly realized something.

"Wait a minute...what are _you_ doing here anyway? It's dark and cold...you're not supposed to be here with all these attacks going on!"

He looked extremely irritated. "I'm not doing anything I shouldn't be. Forget about all this. Go back to the castle."

But Myrtle didn't budge. Her eyes wandered over to his bag and her eyes opened wide. "What's in there? Are those...are those _feathers_? Do you have roosters in there?!"

Tom rolled his eyes. "Yes. I'm collecting them from the gamekeeper. The transfiguration teacher needed them and I am only helping him out. Is that enough? Or do you need more details to pry into my personal life and to follow me around the entire bloody castle?"

Tom barely raised his voice, but it was evidently clear that he was furious. Myrtle stared at the ground, her face flushing. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I didn't mean to be so nosy or to annoy you. It's just that I really like you. I only wanted to get to know you better."

He didn't say anything, but began making his way to the castle. Myrtle quickly followed him. "I mean it. I'm really sorry," she repeated. "Especially about...you know...your parents."

Tom stopped walking for a moment, as if considering something. Then he replied, "don't be" and continued walking.

"No really. It's terrible that you had to go through something like that, and it's even more terrible that you had to tell me like that. Really Tom, I had no idea..."

Again Tom didn't reply. "Are – are you still mad at me?" she asked softly, her voice quivering.

He shook his head. Her heart leaped as he managed a small smile. "No, don't worry about it," he assured her.

"Are you upset? Because, you know, they're gone?"

He shook his head once more. "No, I barely met them. I've gotten over it a long time ago."

"But... you look distressed."

He sighed. "It's not that. Things just haven't been working out the way I expected them to, that's all."

"I'm sorry to hear that," replied Myrtle. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

He smiled again. "No, I'm quite sure that there is nothing you can help me with."

Myrtle didn't say anything else. They were nearly at the castle. She was almost upset to be so near; she longed with all her heart to make the moment last forever. Every second spent with Tom Riddle was pure ecstasy. She wanted him to never leave her. Yet this would be it, she reminded herself sadly. Tom wasn't interested in her. After this, he probably wouldn't even speak to her. Her heart grew heavy with this realization, but she forced herself to savour her last few minutes with Tom.

"Your friends are jerks," she said suddenly.

Tom looked at her and laughed. "You think so?"

"That Malfoy is an obnoxious prat! He called me a Mudblood! And Pollux...he _hit _on me!" She shuddered in disgust.

Tom laughed again. "I'm not surprised."

"I'm positive now that it's him who attacked Fiona," Myrtle continued, her hatred for him rising. "He is simply awful. Terrible. I bet he has loads of monsters, and about seven Horcruxes and everything!"

Tom suddenly stopped in his tracks. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. "_You can have more than one?_" she faintly heard his hiss.

Myrtle was confounded. "What? What are you talking about? Why did you suddenly stop walking?"

Tom shook his head. "Never mind. It's nothing."

But even Myrtle could see that something had aroused his excitement. He was gazing upward as if he was deep in thought. Something strange had crossed his face, and he looked terribly excited, even greedy perhaps...His narrow nose seemed to have sunk into little flaring slits by some sort of hideous transmogrify...But most frightening of all were his eyes. The soft hue of his iris had disappeared, and his eyes now seemed alarmingly bright and red..._as if he was not entirely human!_

Myrtle felt the blood drain from her face as she watched him, terrified. "T-Tom? What's going on? You're frightening me..."

The look on his face diminished as abruptly as it had come, and Tom once again returned to his pleasant self. "What are you talking about?"

Myrtle stared at his face, bewildered. What had she just witnessed? "I thought – I thought I saw..."

"Saw what?"

Myrtle shook her head. "It's nothing. I guess...it must have been a trick of the light."

Tom smiled again as they reached the castle doors. Yet Myrtle continued staring at him, as if expecting his eyes to turn scarlet again and his nose to convert into those little slits...

But as soon as she entered the brightly lit castle, she realized that he was indeed the same Tom Riddle, looking as dashing as ever. She sighed in relief. She had already been so frightened that she had clearly hallucinated Tom's face as being distorted.

"Thank you for the lovely walk," she said, once again happy. "I hope I see you around sometime."

She smiled sadly at the thought of being away from Tom. But what had she expected? She had always known that nothing would have happened between them. At least she had received the chance to share a few precious moments with him.

But Tom didn't move. "Wait, Myrtle."

Her heart leaped with joy (as it typically did around Tom) to hear him finally say her name properly. He apparently noticed this, as he asked, "that is your name, isn't it?"

She nodded happily.

"Well I was just thinking, Myrtle, perhaps it would be nice to get acquainted with each other. Wouldn't you agree?"

Myrtle gasped. "Are you saying...?"

He grinned, wiping a lock of ebony hair away from his forehead. "Why don't we meet up sometime next week for a cup of coffee? I'm sure there are plenty of things that we can, er, discuss."

Myrtle squealed with delight. Then, noticing the odd look that Tom gave her, replied quickly, "I'm sorry! It's just – um, I've never been with anyone before...you're the first."

To this, Tom softly smiled and responded, "and you, my dear, may just be my _second_..."


	9. Tom Riddle's Diary, Part I

_Nine: Tom's Diary, Part I. _

Disclaimer: All characters and events are based on the Harry Potter Series owned by J. K. Rowling. I do not make any money by writing this story.

* * *

A credulous father! and a brother noble,

Whose nature is so far from doing harms

That he suspects none; on whose foolish honesty

My practices ride easy! I see the business.

Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit;

All with me's meet that I can fashion fit.

Edmund, _King Lear, _Act I. Scene II.1

For those of you unfamiliar with Shakespeare, this is the part in the play where the antagonist Edmund deceives his father into believing that his brother is playing to murder him. I found this soliloquy appropriate because Tom Riddle is a lot like Edmund; he is ashamed of his blood and has a conspiracy to rise up while deceiving and hurting others. Both antagonists are intelligent, manipulative characters who exploit others' trust. This is Tom's soliloquy, written as a diary entry.

* * *

_13__th__ March_

_It seems as though that Mudblood is not as idiotic as I assumed._

_Perhaps I shouldn't have been so quick to judge her as completely useless; after all, there has to be at least a hint of intelligence lingering behind those thick, hideous glasses...It is just that I never imagined that she would (out of all people) give me such a brilliant hint._

_Although, I must admit that it deeply puzzles me how a Mudblood would know about this highly sophisticated aspect of dark magic. After all, it had taken _me_ quite a lot of research to learn what I needed to know about Horcruxes. Where could she have possibly obtained this bit of knowledge, which even I never found in any of the countless dark magic books I pored over? Many endless hours of reading, as well as several months of careful practice it took to infuse this delicate, precious ring with my own essence..._

_But this particular piece of advice...I am trembling with excitement now simply thinking of it...I have not read anything that explicitly stated that a wizard cannot create more than one...To think of what this may mean!_

_Such a pity that the poor idiot girl does not even realize what she has told me! But she may know more than I imagine. I don't know where or how she has learned of Horcruxes but I will find out everything she knows. None of the other Slytherins have even heard of this superior art form; it is bewildering to imagine how a foolish little girl has acquired knowledge about magic so esoteric and dark!_

_Yet she knows something, and there is no denying that. She is still a silly little girl, and it will be effortless prying the information out of her. However, I must be careful in discussing such a delicate matter with a base mind as hers. It will take a little bit of time and a tremendous amount of patience, but I must not arouse suspicion. I already have her trust, and with a bit of work I will find out what I need to know. I need only find a way to insert this sensitive topic in a conversation in a way she will not decipher my intentions._

_This will be child's play, to pry secrets out of a naive, doltish girl. Shame, the silly child has no idea of my elaborate and refined designs. Because of her idiocy, I will grow, and I will prosper!_

_I will rise up against the foppery of this trivial world with my brilliance; I will become the very being who witches and wizards everywhere will dread and fear! My name alone will induce unthinkable terror and despair in every mortal who hears it! I will leave behind this pathetic existence and reach immortality, for the very blood of Salzaar Slytherin flows in my godly veins!_

_And to think of what my weak, foolish mother has thrown away in pure idiocy! The very blood of Salzaar Slytherin! The purity of her own race she has sacrificed, and for what? Love! That hideous, sordid word fills me with the outmost disgust. Love! Such nonsense it all is; a completely irrational, sickening idea. It is merely a weak attachment to another. Utter rubbish for fools and cowards. I myself will never sink so low as to allow myself be overpowered by another person. Besides, what did my Pureblood mother even gain by falling in love? A filthy Muggle who left her with a bastard son! _

_Never will I tolerate such betrayal, for treason against one's own blood is the worst crime imaginable. To think of what my own mother has destroyed. The purest wizard blood of the highest quality all wasted because of her stupidity! Blasphemy! _

_But what is the use now of mourning over my tainted blood? No, I will rise above this wretched world of Muggles and blood-traitors. I will accomplish what no other witch or wizard has managed to even dream about. No longer will I be a feeble human like everyone else; I alone will transcend into a being so powerful that people will not dare to speak my name. _

_No longer will I be known as Tom Riddle, the atrocious Muggle name that my deplorable mother has given me. No, I will adopt a name so terrifying that people will not even dare to utter it. I will cleanse this vile world of filth and vermin for once and for all._

Tom stopped writing and rested his quill on the table, deep in thought. He carelessly picked up his wand and slowly began to trace the letters of his name. Large, glowing letters emerged from the tip of his wand and stood suspended in the air. The words 'Tom Marvolo Riddle' shone lifelessly at him. Tom bit his lip, thinking. With a satisfied grin, he waved his wand and the letters arranged themselves into a new order. His grin widened, and he picked up his quill once more.

_I will cleanse this vile world of filth and vermin for once and for all, for I am _Lord Voldemort_. _


	10. Disheartened

_Disclaimer: All characters and events are based on the Harry Potter series owned by J. K. Rowling. I do not make any money by writing this story._

I'm pleased that you guys enjoyed the last chapter, and especially pleased at having some new readers. I really appreciate your reviews and hope that you enjoy reading the rest of the story.

This chapter is quite brief, but hopefully I will have more written soon. I've been extremely busy due to final exams and I hope I'll have more time to write after this week. In the next chapter, Myrtle and Tom will go on their date =D

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_Ten: Disheartened_

Myrtle had never been as ecstatic is she now was. Tom Riddle had asked her out! _The _Tom Riddle! Out of everyone in the entire castle, he had picked her!

Myrtle squealed with delight the moment she opened her eyes in the following morning. She rolled out of bed with shining enthusiasm. _Wait till Olive hears about this! _

She scowled suddenly, wishing that she could tell Fiona. The shock of her attack had worn off, but now Myrtle was longing for her friend more than ever. She had heard that the upper Herbology classes were beginning to grow Mandrakes to cure the people who had been petrified. Myrtle hoped dearly that they would be ready soon, as she had plenty to tell her best friend.

Myrtle got dressed quickly and hurried downstairs for breakfast. Her ponytails bounced up and down as she skipped merrily toward the Great Hall. "What are you so happy about?" Lily asked her when she sat down at the Hufflepuff table.

"Guess who asked me out!" Myrtle squealed.

Lily spit out her toast and began to cough. The Hufflepuffs around her looked up with amused grins. "_You?_" one of them snickered. "Who would ask _you_ out?"

Myrtle frowned. "It's true, somebody asked me out," she protested.

"It was probably a house-elf," another Hufflepuff remarked as everyone chuckled.

"My guess is the giant squid," spoke up another. The others roared with laughter.

"Stop it!" Myrtle wailed. "I'm not joking."

"Who was it then, Wyndham?" Lily asked seriously.

Myrtle grinned. "Tom Riddle asked me out, just last night!"

To her severe disappointment, there was no reaction to this news. The others quietly diverted their attentions back to their breakfasts as Myrtle sat stupefied.

"What? You don't really expect us to believe that, do you?" Lily responded finally, seeing Myrtle's startled face. "We all know you fancy Tom, it's all over the school. But you can't really expect us to believe that he likes you back."

"Yeah, Wyndham, if you're going to pretend that you have a boyfriend then at least be realistic!"

Myrtle shook furiously, tears threatening to emerge from her moistening eyes. "What is so hard to believe about the fact that Tom asked me out?"

"Well, because...it's _you_," Lily explained plainly. "I don't mean to be harsh, but come on. What would a gorgeous boy like Tom Riddle ever want with you?"

"Besides," spoke up Lily's friend, "you're a Muggle-born. And he's a Slytherin."

A large drop of tear fell of out Myrtle's eye as she blinked furiously, willing herself to hold back her wails. "For your information, Tom is different! He's sweet and caring, and he doesn't care if I'm pureblood or not!"

With that final outburst she jumped to her feet and stormed away, sobbing hysterically. This didn't seem to arouse any stir from rest of her housemates, as their attention was once again diverted to their breakfasts and to other trivial bits of conversation.

* * *

She hurried through the corridor with tears pouring down her face. Why did they always have to be so cruel? Why did they always taunt poor Myrtle so? Couldn't they allow her to enjoy something for once? Even after something great had happened to her, she was still denied happiness.

Occupied with her wailing, Myrtle didn't realize that someone was emerging out of the room she was running past. Within seconds she felt herself collide into another body and crashed to the floor. Humiliated, she looked up and gasped.

"Tom!"

He looked at her strangely for a moment, then smiled warmly and extended his hand to help her to her feet. "Forgive me," he replied coolly. "I should have been more careful while opening the door."

Myrtle's cheeks turned red. Her tears were immediately forgotten. "I – It's my fault," she mumbled. "I should have been watching where I was going." she hastily accepted his hand and pulled herself up.

In her state of mortification, Myrtle failed to notice the peculiarity of Tom Riddle emerging out of the girl's lavatory with a couple of chicken feathers hanging off his robes.

Instead, Myrtle gazed at him longingly, entirely oblivious to everything else around her. "So, where were you going in such a hurry?" Tom asked her.

Immediately she recalled the teasing and mockery she had faced at the Hufflepuff table. "I was going to my dormitory to hide," she sobbed. "Everyone was saying the most awful things, Tom! They all hate me, they all tease me!"

Tom didn't respond. Even the slightest hint of interest didn't cross his face, which Myrtle again failed to notice. After a long pause, Myrtle shyly spoke up. "Um, Tom, did you want to – you know, hang out?"

He still seemed uninterested. His brows were furrowed as if he was considering something important, which Myrtle found slightly odd. "Tom? Did you hear what I said?"

"Oh, right. Er, I'm not sure if I can, Meredith. I'm rather busy. You know, with prefect duties and all."

Myrtle's heart dropped. "What?" she exclaimed. "But you said –"

Tom sighed. "Fine, how about tomorrow then? I'll meet you in the school grounds at eight in the evening. Is this alright with you?"

"Yes, but –"

"Splendid. I shall see you then." With this Tom walked away, leaving Myrtle in utter confusion.


	11. The Most Peculiar Attack

_Disclaimer: All characters and events are based on the Harry Potter series owned by J.K Rowling. I do not make any money by writing this story._

As always, thank you for your wonderful reviews. The is the chapter in which Tom and Myrtle finally go on a date, and something unexpected happens. Enjoy :D

I do have some bad news, however. In May I'm leaving the province and won't be back until June, and I will not have access to a computer. I don't know how long it's going to take me to finish this story, but I don't want to rush to the ending and so there might not be any updates for a whole month :( I will try to finish it before I leave, but I don't think I'll get it all done in time so I will probably write the rest of the story on paper while I'm away and then later type/publish it. I'll be done with finals in a few days though and I have about two weeks before I leave, so hopefully I'll get lots of chapters written.

I'm sorry for this inconvenience, but for now enjoy the following chapters :)

* * *

_Eleven: The Most Peculiar Attack_

Myrtle shivered as a chilly gust of wind blew at her face. She checked her watch, and saw that it was nearly quarter past eight. Tom was still not there.

Why had he chosen to meet her outside when the weather was still so dreadful? It was quite dark too, for that matter!

Myrtle tapped her foot in impatience. "Where is he?" she muttered to herself. "What if he's not coming?"

She had been trembling with excitement and nerves ever since she had awoken. A date with Tom Riddle! She had been pacing around her common room for many hours, waiting for the clock to strike seven. She had bounded out of the castle before it was even seven, and she had been waiting outside in the cold for over an hour for Tom for show up.

Myrtle frowned as she thought about Tom. He was certainly a strange character, turning up in the most random places. She could never guess what he was feeling, which was another thing that always perplexed Myrtle. A sense of distant coldness always seemed to emanate from him, but she could not understand what it was.

Myrtle sighed, shaking those thoughts out of her head. She checked her watch again. It was eight twenty. Where was he?

She bit her lip to refrain from crying. _Oh, if he doesn't turn up..._She had dressed up very nicely for him, and it would surely be a terrible shame if he didn't bother to come. She had chosen to wear a black knee-length skirt with a plain white blouse underneath her cloak, which she had regretted as soon as she had stepped out into the cold. She was also wearing an expensive silver necklace which her mother had given to her, and she had let her hair out of her usual pigtails and fastened it with a hair band. Of course, she didn't look nearly as pretty as any of the other girls at Hogwarts, but it was the best Myrtle could do.

She was very close to turning back to the castle in tears when she finally saw him approaching; a tall, distant, figure with features as handsome as a god's and an expression betraying utter hatred.

...

"Tom!" she squealed with delight, "I thought you weren't going to come."

"I was held up with something. I am terribly sorry, dear, hope that you weren't waiting too long."

The Mudblood grinned widely. "Don't worry, Tom. You're here, and that's what matters."

Tom glanced at her without interest and smirked. She was trying to impress him and it was so pathetically obvious that he almost felt sorry for her. Upon a closer look, he decided that she didn't look too bad tonight after all. The pretty garments she had chosen to wear were wasted on her shapeless figure and her blouse hung loosely over her flat chest, but it was definitely an improvement over the snotty school robes he had caught her in previously. She looked much better with her hair down as well, although her massive glasses and pimpled face were terrible blemishes on her otherwise mediocre looks.

She looked at him nervously. "Wh-what do you want to do?"

Tom shrugged without enthusiasm. "We can take a walk, I suppose. Unless you have a better idea."

"I guess so. But it's awfully chilly."

"I don't mind the cold," Tom answered plainly.

Myrtle inspected him closely and remarked, "but you must be freezing! You're not even wearing a cloak."

Tom shrugged again. "Do you at least want to go back in the castle and grab your hat?" she continued.

He narrowed his eyes. "I seem to have misplaced my hat somehow. I was quite sure that I had left it on my wardrobe where I usually keep it, but it is now missing. It's strange how things disappear like this." _Or get stolen_.

Myrtle did not reply, but followed him across the school grounds. He sauntered towards the lake with the Mudblood hurrying after him. "Wait, you're walking too fast..." she called.

Tom ignored her, but eventually stopped at a large rock in front of the lake. He sat on its rough surface and waited for the girl to catch up. She arrived moments later, shivering furiously.

"So, do you read much?" Tom asked her dully.

The girl nodded excitedly. "Mostly Muggle books, though. My sister has lots of them."

Tom felt his interest fade immediately. Obviously she hadn't learned about Horcruxes in idiotic Muggle books. He would have to think of another way to get into her thoughts.

Myrtle, however, was still talking. "My sister is the oldest; everybody likes her best. Back in Birmingham it's always 'Cynthia this' and 'Cynthia that'. But I remember when I received my letter from Hogwarts. My parents were flabbergasted. They didn't have any clue that I would turn out to be a witch. But I was really delighted, because for the first time ever it was _me _that got accepted into something instead of that perfect, beautiful, _genius_ Cynthia. She was really envious." Myrtle grinned broadly, apparently unaware that Tom wasn't paying her the slightest bit of attention.

"What about you?" she asked. "How did you find out about Hogwarts?"

Tom's attention abruptly returned. "The transfiguration teacher told me."

Myrtle looked interested. "Professor Dumbledore? Did he visit your orph –" she stopped herself quickly. "Did he visit you?"

He nodded, his attention faltering once again.

"He's a great teacher, isn't he? I think he's my favourite. I don't think the other teachers like me too much."

"Hm."

"What are you going to do over the Easter holidays?" the girl asked.

"Nothing," was his languid reply.

"I'm going skiing with my parents. Of course, _Cynthia _is the best skier in the family," she wrinkled her nose at this, "but it's still fun. And I'm really looking forward to getting out of this castle for a little while. People here are really awful."

Tom noticed that her voice was becoming quieter, and had slightly quivered at the last sentence. "They really taunt you a lot, don't they?" he spoke up.

She nodded solemnly. "It's really awful, Tom. Sometimes I think about leaving Hogwarts but it's the same back at home too. Everybody ridicules me; it doesn't matter where I am. Everybody thinks I'm stupid, ugly, worthless..." Her eyes began to water and her voice trailed off.

"It must be really awful," Tom remarked. He did not sound at all sympathetic, but instead slightly pleased. Again, the girl did not notice his complete lack of compassion. She merely nodded.

"Have you ever felt as if you didn't belong anywhere?" she asked suddenly. "Have you ever felt completely isolated from everybody, as if you were something different? As if nobody loves you, and that you are entirely alone?"

He froze for a second, unable to speak. He could hear his heart thumping and could feel a gut wrenching pain beginning to tear through his stomach. "No!" he suddenly heard himself cry out.

Myrtle's head jerked in his direction, startled at this uncharacteristic outburst. Tom immediately regained control and cleared his throat, embarrassed. "Of course not," he replied in his usual monotone.

She sighed. "Well, it's a dreadful feeling. It is really something awful to see everyone else around you, surrounded by their friends and people who love them. Sometimes I feel that nobody will ever love me. Like I'm inadequate and inferior, incapable of being accepted or wanted by another person. Do you ever feel like that?"

Tom shook his head quickly.

"Never? Not even while you were growing up without your parents?" she asked, her eyes wide with curiosity and wonder. "I mean, I have a wonderful family so I guess it's silly to feel like this. But I have no idea what I would do if I didn't even have any parents to support me and tell me that they love me. Because they do, I know that they do even though it seems like they like my sister more."

An indescribable feeling of loathing was searing through Tom. He had never wanted to hurt this girl as much as he did now. He couldn't explain what was happening inside him, but he knew that he was growing bitter with hatred with every passing second at this idiot girl.

"I have never felt that way," he answered coldly.

"Do you ever wish that you had known them?" she asked. "Do you ever wish you could meet your fath –"

He cried out as a sharp pain suddenly rippled through his insides. It shot up from his stomach and coursed through his veins, finally reaching the synapses of his brain and making him drop to the ground. His heart was pounding rapidly and he was sweating profusely, shaking and writhing on the ground. What was this terrible sensation? Was he on the Cruciatus curse?

Myrtle was standing over him, bewildered. "Tom? What's going on?" she sounded frightened, yet far away.

He was on the Cruciatus curse, he was sure of it. Tom continued shaking, the pain filling him entirely. Something terrible was happening, he couldn't handle it anymore, he was going to explode. The sense of impending doom was dawning nearer and nearer, and then...

It stopped.

Tom lay still on the ground. The sweating had stopped and his heart was no longer pounding. He looked up at Myrtle, who looked as frightened as ever. What the hell had just happened?

Hastily, he got up on his feet and dusted the dirt off his robes. Myrtle continued watching him with her jaw open. "Wh-what happened?" she stammered.

He didn't know how to answer her. It had to be a curse, but there was nobody else around to have cursed him. And she hadn't attacked him, had she? After all, she was only a stupid Hufflepuff girl.

"Tom? Are...are you alright?" her voice was now faint, barely audible.

He nodded hastily. "Yes, yes. I'm just feeling a bit under the weather. Perhaps we should go back inside."

Myrtle nodded silently, baffled at what she had just witnessed.


	12. Crimson Eyes

_Disclaimer: All characters and events are based on the Harry Potter series owned by J.K. Rowling. I do not make any money by writing this story._

Thanks again for all your reviews. It will be clear in a few chapters later what the source of the attack was. Also, I still have two weeks before I go away so I might have time to finish the story after all, but I'm not making any promises.

This chapter came out sort of unexpectedly. I was going in a certain direction and then found the plot change into something else. Tom will need to find a way to deal with this new "problem" ;)

Enjoy!

_

* * *

_

_Twelve: Crimson Eyes_

Tom had been avoiding the Mudblood girl ever since. A week had swiftly passed, and he had somehow managed to make it around the castle without her pestering him.

As for the attack, he still had no idea what had caused it or what it had been. He hadn't experienced another one since that night, and he supposed that it would never again occur.

April was fast approaching and the students were waiting with anticipation for the Easter holidays to arrive. The agitation regarding the attacks seemed to have disappeared for now, as most people had begun to assume that they were over. There hadn't been any attacks for a month now, and the upper level Herbology classes were making considerable progress with their mandrakes. It was expected that the students who had been petrified would be out of the hospital wing in approximately six weeks time.

Tom, of course, wasn't at all pleased at this news. The idea of Hogwarts shutting down had deeply startled him, and he had decided to temporarily stall the attacks until a better time when the staff wasn't stressed enough to make harsh decisions. He still had to feed Slytherin's creature, however, and his visits to the chamber were still regular. He hadn't yet been discovered for stealing those chickens either, despite the fact that Mudblood Myrtle had already caught him with some.

On Thursday evening before the holiday, Tom lay on the sofa in front of the fireplace with his eyebrows creased in slight tension. Since he had decided to abandon the Mudblood he had been researching Horcruxes continually, but had managed to find nothing at all useful. There weren't any books at all in the library, even in the restricted section. He had poured over the few books he had bought at Knockturn Alley, but they all mentioned very little about Horcruxes and nothing at all that suggested that it was possible to make two.

He sat up as he heard voices and footsteps approaching. He glanced up and saw Cygnus, Pollux, Abraxas, and Druella walking toward him. "Tom, where have you been lately? None of us have seen you around all week."

"I have been occupied with something," Tom answered coolly. His four housemates seated themselves next to him, and fortunately did not pester him with any more questions regarding his whereabouts.

"What are you all doing for the Easter holidays?" Cygnus asked.

"My mother wants me to come home," Druella replied, brushing her long wavy locks out of her face. "She's worried about those attacks, although I've explained to her countless times that there isn't any reason to be. They wouldn't attack a Pureblood, would they?"

"Besides, I think the bloke who's behind them had given up by now," Cygnus remarked. "I guess Weasel's girlfriend was the last one."

"Such a pity that it didn't finish her off, I think," Abraxas snickered. "Perhaps that Hagrid oaf finally got his pets confiscated."

"At least it shut Weasel up. He hasn't badgered us since that hideous wench got petrified," Pollux said.

"I hope that monster gets loose and slaughters every filthy Mudblood in the castle," Abraxas continued. "It will be nice to return after Easter without their foul stench begriming our pure castle walls."

"Are you going home for Easter too?" Druella asked him.

"Sweden," answered Malfoy. "We're visiting our cottage. I'll be having a completely Mudblood-free Easter, I am pleased to say."

"I'm going home too," Cygnus answered. "My cousins are coming from Holland to celebrate Easter with us. The weather is getting nicer, so I reckon we'll play a bit of Quidditch in the meadow."

Tom had been happily avoiding partaking in their conversation, but could no longer do so as Druella caught his eye. "And are you staying at Hogwarts for Easter, Tom?" she asked him gently.

The others watched him quietly, waiting for his answer. Tom nodded calmly, his face entirely void of even the slightest trace of emotion. "I suppose I could use some extra time to get a head start on studying for final exams," he said quietly. "And I am rather busy with prefect duties – it'll be good to have some time without classes."

Tom still did not show any emotion as he spoke these words, but he could feel his stomach sinking as he watched the others excitedly discuss their holiday plans. _Stop this,_ he mentally scolded himself. _It's the same every year. I'm used to it. I would rather be alone here anyway instead of hanging around with a bunch of weaklings. _

Yet this unpleasant feeling did not leave, and Tom couldn't understand why.

"I'm staying at the castle too," smirked Pollux. "It'll be good to have this extra time – just like you said, eh?" He proceeded to wink at Tom, puzzling him.

"Well, I wouldn't mind staying at the castle either," Druella replied. "I'm only going because my mum is forcing me."

Tom nodded simply but did not say anything. Pollux still continued winking and smirking as if he was plotting something, which was odd as well as irritating. Tom decided to ignore him and instead turned his attention to the crackling fire that was illuminating the dim chamber.

An hour passed until Druella finally rose from her seat. "I have a potions test in the morning, so I better get some sleep. I will see you guys in Divination tomorrow." She turned to Tom, who was the only one of the four who hadn't signed up for Divination. "I don't think we'll see each other tomorrow, as I'm leaving before dinner," she said softly. "I hope you have a nice holiday, Tom. Good night."

"Good night," Tom answered her, still trying to shake off the gut-wrenching pain that was eating his insides.

"I should get going too," Cygnus replied. "I haven't finished my essay for tomorrow."

One by one they arose and headed to their dorms. Only Pollux and Tom were now left, and Tom could not ignore Pollux's strange behaviour any longer.

"So Tom," he replied, bearing a toothy grin. "Have you shagged that Mudblood bitch yet?"

Tom's face immediately contorted into a glare of pure disgust. "I fail to see the amusement in your remark," he answered coldly. "If you will not dispose of your rudeness, I may as well head back to my dorm."

He stood up and turned to leave, but the boy stopped him. "I'm only jokin'. No need to get so over worked about it." He grinned again, exposing his crooked yellow teeth. "I've just been wondering where it is that you keep disappearing off to. What have you been doing in your free time? Are you hiding something, Tommy?"

Resisting every urge to pull out his wand, Tom answered in a tone colder than ever, "what I do in my spare time is none of your business."

Pollux continued grinning. "Alright then, you don't have to tell me. But just so you know, I've got some plans of my own."

"I don't see how that interests me."

Tom began to leave but stopped once more. "Also, Mesmer, I would like to have my hat back and would graciously appreciate it if you stayed away from my belongings from now on."

Pollux stopped grinning at once. "What makes you think I've got your damn hat?" he spat.

"This is the second time that something has gone missing from my dormitory. I know that someone stole my comb just a few weeks ago, although I do not understand what anybody would want it for. I've also noticed that my books were scattered around at the time of its disappearance, although none were taken. I do not know what you are looking for in my room, Mesmer, but I would strictly advise you to stay out my belongings. Perhaps it's my own fault for being careless, but I never assumed that anybody would be idiotic enough to meddle about in _my _things."

Pollux was silent for a moment. Then, he angrily pulled something out of his backpack and hastily threw it at Tom. "There, here's your bloody hat. I don't need any of your things. I just want to know what you're up to, that's all. And I'll find out. And you'll regret it. Mark my words, _half-blood."_ He glanced up at Tom's face and then sneered. "Don't try to act surprised. You father was a Muggle. A vile, atrocious Muggle. I _know_."

A dangerous silence followed these words.

Tom gazed at the boy without uttering a word, his face calm and smooth yet his eyes conveying absolute hatred. Pollux suddenly grew frightened at what the boy might do. His eyes looked as if they were glowing. They watched him intently with immense loathing, turning darker and darker until they were a fiery shade of crimson. Pollux felt the blood drain from his face in shock. _What was wrong with his eyes?_

But after a couple of blinks, he saw that Tom's eyes were indeed the same pale colour and that his face displayed no emotion as usual. Pollux relaxed slightly, but he still had a strange feeling in his stomach.

Tom's lips curved into a short smile. "Thank you. I trust that you will not take any more of my things. Good night, Mesmer."

And he disappeared.


	13. Still It Rains

_Disclaimer: All characters and events are based on the Harry Potter series owned by J.. I do not make any money by writing this story._

Good news, I may be able to finish the story before I leave after all! I think I have only a few more chapters left to write, which I can do so without rushing, and I have a couple more already written. This chapter is quite short but I'm publishing two at once, so enjoy!

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_Thirteen: Still It Rains_

Myrtle longingly gazed at the fading castle through the rain streaked window. The train blew its whistle as it streaked down the narrow path of lush green fields and hills. She quietly gazed at the scenery with loneliness tearing at her heart.

What had happened between her and Tom? She had thought things were going well, and that he was actually growing fond of her. But she hadn't seen him since that strange night. What was it that had happened to him? Was he ill?

Questions whirled about in her head as she sat uselessly. She listened to the sharp drops of rain hit the train, shuddering as she pictured Tom writhing on the grass. She had been terribly frightened, and merely thinking about that scene filled her with fear. Worst of all was the fact that she didn't even know whether or not he was alright.

She had never seen Tom look that way before, and hoped that she would never have to witness another similar sight. His soft face had contorted into a terrifying grimace, his skin turning startlingly white and his lips a pale blue...

She had never before seen another person look so utterly helpless and forsaken.

Myrtle wiped away her tears and tried to shake her worries out of her head. Tom was probably fine. He was a surprisingly strong and composed person. Perhaps she hadn't seen him since then because he had been busy, or perhaps because he had decided to stay in bed or had gone to the hospital wing.

Slightly relieved, Myrtle unwrapped a chocolate frog which she had bought off the trolley and thought about what the Easter holidays would bring. Four days off from school would definitely be blissful, with no nagging teachers and students harassing her. She brightened at the thought of seeing her family in a few hours.

Yes, Tom would be completely fine and she would see him again as soon as she returned to Hogwarts.

...

The castle felt eerily empty this night. Many of Tom's housemates had gone home for the holidays, and he found himself alone in the common room listening to the rain pouring outside.

Not that he minded, of course. Such tranquility was rarely found at the bustling castle, and Tom always preferred to be alone anyway. Now for at least four days he could enjoy the silence and carry about with his business without being pestered. His housemates were really quite a nuisance; the arrogant prat Malfoy, the loud and obnoxious Black...And then there were Avery and Lestrange, whom Tom wasn't actually fond of either. They were all useful at times when Tom needed to complete a particularly risky task, but he seldom needed help from others.

And then there was Mesmer. Tom recalled their previous conversation and frowned as he considered the absurdity of it. Mesmer's odd behaviour was probably nothing to worry about, of course, reasoned Tom. Pollux was not a boy of great intellect and so Tom was not concerned at his threats; he merely wondered what Mesmer was after. Clearly the naive boy had no idea who he was dealing with and if Tom wasn't so curious, Pollux Mesmer would have been long disposed of.

And to think, Mesmer was genuinely under the impression that he had some power over Tom; that he had actually managed to steal from Tom Marvolo Riddle and gotten away with it! His overconfidence and arrogance were quite interesting, Tom thought.

Yes, it was indeed pleasant to be solitary within the walls of Hogwarts. Its emptiness and eerie glow illuminated its own magnificence. The rain crashing against the large windows further added to the gloomy atmosphere. It was just the way Tom liked the castle to be; quiet, dark, and void of the irksome crowd of idiots with whom he was always surrounded.

But there was something that was bothering him tonight, and Tom could not figure out what it was. As much as he enjoyed being apart from others, he felt as if something was missing. It was the most peculiar sensation to feel this way, and it deeply puzzled Tom. Why was he suddenly feeling so alone?


	14. But You Must Not Fear the Dark

_Disclaimer: All characters and events are based on the Harry Potter series owned by J.. I do not make money by writing this story._

Warning - this chapter may not be considered canon, in case you feel that I have depicted Tom's character inaccurately. Tom will show some feelings toward the end of the chapter, but it is because he is under a potion. I feel that Tom hides his feelings in his subconscious, and they have threatened to emerge and in result have made him restless. He doesn't understand that he cannot truly control his emotions but merely hide them, and they will emerge when he finds himself out of control. This will apply also to the next chapter.

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_Fourteen: But You Must Not Fear the Dark _

Tom awoke the following morning to the silent tune of raindrops falling on his windowsill. It was a soft, gloomy morning. Outside his window he could see nothing but the whiteness of the sky and the silver threads of rain.

After getting dressed, Tom slipped his wind into his pocket and left the empty common room. Upon reaching the Great Hall, he was surprised to see that only a few clusters of people were scattered throughout the chamber. He had never seen the Great Hall this empty before, even though he usually woke up for breakfast much earlier than most students did. This was the first time that so many students had gone home for the Easter holidays, and Tom figured that it was because people were still terrified of the attacks.

He finished his breakfast quickly and headed to the library. Unsurprisingly, the library was also empty except for a couple of students who had apparently decided to finish off some assignments or had started studying for exams early. Tom calmly headed towards the restricted section. The librarian paid him no attention, as she was quite accustomed to Tom leafing through books that students normally weren't allowed near. Tom Riddle was a good student, she had figured long ago, and there could be no harm done if he browsed through a few restricted books.

However, there was nothing interesting in the restricted section as usual. Tom had already browsed through most of them a few years ago and now only used them when there was something particular he needed to know. Of course, he had not found anything more about Horcruxes and had given up a while ago. He had considered requesting for a special order, but it would have seemed highly suspicious. He had already leafed through numerous catalogues of book shops to perhaps place an order, but there were no useful books in any of the stores in Knockturn Alley either. He was now getting desperate, wondering if he had done the right thing by cutting off contact with that Mudblood.

In the corner of his eye, Tom found a large old book bearing the title _Volume of Banned, Fatal, and Highly Dangerous Curses and Hexes, Third Edition_ in faded letters. He pulled it off the shelf and seated himself in a secluded table in the corner.

He skimmed through the book with interest, but his mind was still preoccupied with Horcruxes. He needed to know how that Mudblood had found out, and he needed to know fast. He decided that he would talk to her once she returned after Easter and find out once and for all.

However, there was still something preoccupying him which he still couldn't understand. That strange sensation in his stomach that persisted. What was it? Was he becoming ill?

He tried to ignore it, but found the sensation creep back into his thoughts later that day. This time he experienced a most peculiar feeling of loneliness that deeply startled him. He had always been lonely, he knew that, but he had never quite felt the dreariness of it. But today it took him by surprise. His stomach felt queer and his heart stung, and at times Tom felt that he would vomit. It was as if he had come to the full realization that he really had no friends. This had never bothered him before, which puzzled him even more.

Again he tried to push those feelings aside, and this time when they came back it overwhelmed him greatly and gave him sharp pains in his body. This time he did vomit, and afterwards stood in bewilderment trying to understand what was going on in his body. He contemplated going to the Hospital Wing but knew that this was something magic could not cure.

It occurred the most when he thought about..._her_. At first it had made him terribly angry to think about her so much. It was something weak people did, he thought. Only weak people thought about girls, only weak people cared about other people, only weak people had _feelings_. And he was not weak; he was Lord Voldemort! He was brilliant and gifted, he had single-handedly opened the Chamber of Secrets, and he was going to find out how to make numerous Horcruxes and reach immortality! Tom Riddle could not possibly be weak. _He was Slytherin's heir!_

He scowled in distaste, angry with himself. He remained angry for quite a while, and whenever her name popped into his head he grew even more furious. It was unacceptable; he was alone and he had always enjoyed being alone and what he was feeling now was completely irrational! He tried to busy himself with schoolwork, with prefect duties, and every other activity he could conceive of, but over and over again he found his thoughts and his will wander away like Daedalus's statues. Finally he gave up and headed outside for a walk, ignoring the rain pouring on him.

The walk did not release his anger but instead made it stronger. Now every time he thought of her, he felt livid and had the strongest desire to hurt her. He wanted to make her suffer; he wanted to _torture_ her for making him feel weak.

He didn`t return to the castle until hours later, and by then he was in such a foul mood that he was ready to use an unforgivable curse on anyone that dared to even speak to him. Fortunately, nobody did. The castle was still empty and quiet. The oddest thing, though, was the fact that Tom hadn`t seen Mesmer all day. Come to think of it, he hadn`t seen Mesmer since the night he had threatened him. Tom found this odd but he was somewhat relieved.

Tom tried to take a nap but found himself lying awake with unwanted thoughts swirling in his head. He fell asleep with great effort and woke up only half an hour later from an uneasy sleep.

He arose and walked to the Great Hall. Having skipped lunch, he was quite hungry, but he ate little. His stomach still hurt and he still felt nauseas, but he did not throw up. His anger had dissipated and now he felt only weak and hungry. When his thoughts glided into reveries about _her,_ he could no longer struggle and found himself thinking about her anyway despite the displeasure. Now these thoughts were stronger and more lucid, and the feeling of ache and loneliness were more dreadful than ever.

He struggled to leave the Great Hall and found himself walk into the Hospital Wing. Madam Turelli, the school nurse, greeted him with a look of surprise etched on her round, plump face. "Tom Riddle! Why, I`ve only seen you here once or twice all the years you have been here. What`s the matter, boy?"

Tom hastily explained to her about the vomiting, the stomach ache, his difficulty falling asleep, and all the other symptoms he could think of. Madam Turelli looked at him oddly and then finally spoke.

"That does seem a bit peculiar, Tom, but you mustn`t get so worked up. You might just be getting a stomach flu. I can give you a potion to take up to your dorm and you`ll be fine by tomorrow," she explained brightly.

Tom shook his head. "It`s not a flu. It`s something else. I can feel it."

"What else could it be, Tom? I think you`re getting too worried. Come to think of it, your face is quite flushed," she remarked. "You know, I think I`ll take your temperature to check if you`re getting a fever. Drink some of my flu potion and get some rest. You look like you need some."

Tom protested further but Madam Turelli would not listen. She forced a thermometer upon him and waited. When she pulled it out of his mouth, she examined it closely, looking puzzled. "Nothing seems to be wrong," she said finally. "Your body temperature is quite normal."

"Madam – I think – I think I was attacked," Tom suddenly spoke, remembering the night by the lake.

The nurse looked startled and peered at him with her eyes opened wide. "Attacked? But how?"

Tom explained to her everything that had happened that night. He told her about his heart pounding, how he had turned strikingly pale, and how he had been writhing on the ground in pain. "I felt as if – as if I was dying, Madam."

The nurse was quite for a moment and then, to Tom`s astonishment, she smiled. "No one cursed you, dear boy," she explained gently. "It sounds like you`ve had a panic attack. It happens sometimes if you are anxious about something or scared. Is there anything bothering you at the moment?"

Tom nodded hastily but didn`t say a word.

"Well, that explains it then. It`s nothing to worry about, but you should let me know if you have any more attacks. Just relax and you will feel better. You mustn`t fear or worry so, or you`ll drive yourself sick!"

"But – can`t you give me something to stop these...attacks?"

She smiled and shook her head. "I can`t cure this with magic. It will go away on its own once to learn to cope with whatever`s bothering you."

Tom felt himself grow angry. "That`s rubbish! My insides feel as if they will burst! It`ll not just disappear on its own, I need medicine."

The nurse stopped smiling but finally nodded. Tom was silent as she poured a solution into a small vial. "I`m giving you some sleep draught. It ought to help you relax a bit. I`ll give you some flu potion too but I doubt you`ll need it."

Tom accepted two vials from her and thanked her politely. "But remember, Tom. These potions will not cure your problems. You have to learn on your own to deal with your feelings."

Irritated, Tom made his way to the Slytherin dungeons. He cursed that idiotic women under his breath as he unlocked his dormitory and walk inside. He examined the two vials that she had given him and then opened one of them. He drank the sleeping draught in one gulp and laid down, waiting for it to work.

As he became drowsy, he thought about _her_ one last time. He had never particularly been fond of her, but things had changed now. He was developing _feelings _– he shuddered at this word – for her.

As he continued thinking about her, he thought that she wasn`t really an annoying or a despicable person. Instead, perhaps she was really alright. And she genuinely seemed to care about him, didn`t she?

Tom moaned with uneasiness but grew drowsier and drowsier.

Her hair...it was quite nice, actually. It smelled fresh, like jasmine and lilies and lotuses and everything else sweet and pure.

His muscles suddenly gave a sharp convulsion at this involuntary thought, but the potion was too strong for him to feel distress.

Yes, her hair was quite nice. And come to think of it, she wasn`t at all bad looking. Tom had never really been attracted by her looks, but now he thought that she was actually quite pretty. And what he liked the most about her were her eyes.

Yes. Her eyes. Her lovely, round, grey eyes. Tom had always noticed them. They were always so bright that they were hard to miss. Even though they usually looked silent and sombre, there was something special about them. Because even when they looked so dismal, they were still sparkling with life. Life. Not like Tom`s eyes, which burned scarlet and looked ferocious when he felt – that foul word again, but this time he did not shudder – anything. His eyes made him look less human. But hers...hers glowed and shimmered with life even when she was miserable...

Drowsier and drowsier...

His eyelids fluttered...then they squeezed shut...

And perhaps the thing that was bothering him the most was that...that because she had always been there...he had never given her any notice, and now that she was gone...

...Perhaps he even missed her.

Now the draught had fully kicked in and Tom Riddle was fast asleep, entirely oblivious to the burning secret of his heart that his brain had just betrayed.


	15. Tom Riddle's Diary, Part II

_Disclaimer: All characters and events are based on the Harry Potter series owned by J. K. Rowling. I do not make money by writing this story._

Again, this chapter is fairly brief so I'm posting another one with it :) I think the quote in the beginning is straight-forward, but incase you don't understand it, it means that people think of themselves as strong and in control but eventually they find themselves in situations in which they are powerless. This relates to Tom, as he has always viewed himself as powerful but he has a weakness which he must now deal with.

Enjoy.

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_Fifteen: Tom's Diary, Part II._

Of all things creeping, or that creep on earth,

Nought is more wretched than a human birth.

Bless'd men think never they can cursed be,

While any power lasts to move a knee.

But when the bless'd gods make them feel that smart

That fled their faith so, as they had no heart

They bear their suff'rings, and, what well they might

Have clearly shunned, they then meet in despite.

[The Odyssey, 18: 188 – 95]

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_15__th__ April_

_But there must be some cure for this. _

_I have drunk the entire flu potion but my stomach still aches and the urge to vomit does not leave me. I have looked in every book I own and plenty more from the library, yet I have found nothing at all to explain my sudden illness. That wretched nurse still insists that there is nothing wrong with me physically, but it is all rubbish. _

_I have not slept for two nights. Only the sleeping draught allows me to rest now, but the nurse has refused to prescribe me more. I need that draught. It makes it all better. It allows me to forget. It makes me numb again..._

_The flu potion does not help..._

_Only the draught works now. Oh, how I long for that numbness once again. It gives me strength. But now...It has all changed...I feel _human_._

_How wretched this feeling is! Why must I feel? It is truly a vile thing to be able to feel something so hideous. Love is the most repulsive emotion conceivable; it is the opium of weaklings. And it is making me ill._

_I do not want to like her. Yet she persists in my mind, taunting me. She tortures me. She steals my dreams. Then she laughs, for her heart is harder than stones and colder than ice. _

_I hate her. I have the vehement desire to cause her excruciating pain. I want to make her suffer. I want her to scream and writhe under the Cruciatus curse so that I may happily watch and laugh at her misery. I want her to cry and moan and scream my name. I shall bind her with ropes and torture her again and again until she bleeds from her brain and her eyes and especially her heart... What bloody right does she have to make me feel?!_

_It is this hate that makes me grow stronger. It gives me true happiness, for nothing is as lovely as the subtle beauty of hatred. Anything that does not stem from pure loathing is weak and filthy. Especially love. Love, love, that revolting word itself throws me into convulsions. No, it is _hatred_ that allows me to rise above the baseness of this pitiful world. _

_But for now I fear that I am growing weak. I am plunging into madness. I feel as though sanity is leaving me. I have no strength left...I feel it drain from me...it's leaving me in this sickening hell..._

_I have not eaten, nor slept..._

_My mind, it leaves me..._

_I need that draught. I need to feel numb. _


	16. As Fortune Changes its Course

_Disclaimer: All characters and events are based on the Harry Potter series owned by J. K. Rowling. I do not make any money by writing this fic._

The next chapter will involve a sex scene :D Enjoy!

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_Sixteen: As Fortune Changes its Course_

Myrtle had been waiting anxiously for the holidays to end ever since she had arrived home. Not that her holidays had been unpleasant, of course. Skiing had been very fun, and she had enjoyed seeing her family once more because she had stayed at the castle over Christmas. However, Tom had stayed on her mind throughout the weekend and she couldn't wait to see him once again. She was extremely relieved to step off the Hogwarts train on Monday evening and finally enter the castle.

She slept anxiously on that night, waiting desperately for the morning to come so that she could find Tom. The thought of looking for Tom also agitated her, as it was extremely difficult to run into him in the castle. He was very odd and unpredictable, so Myrtle had no idea where he usually lingered and thereby did not know where to look for him. She also knew that Tom hated it when she waited for him after his classes, and decided that it would be a bad idea to do it now after that awkward date. She didn't want him to anger him even more.

But Fortuna was kind to Myrtle, as she caught a glimpse of Tom first thing in the morning. She was just entering the Great Hall for breakfast when he was leaving. She hurried toward him, gleaming with excitement. "Tom! Over here!"

His eyes met hers for a brief moment, and then he looked away. A look of relief seemed to spread across his face, and he actually _smiled_. It was the first time Myrtle had ever seen him smile at her, and she was so pleased that she grinned widely and skipped over to him. "Tom! I'm so glad I've found – "

She stopped suddenly, catching a glimpse of his pallid face. He looked alarmingly pale and his eyes were sunken. He even looked thinner than he did when she had left. "W-what happened? Are – are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm perfectly fine. Why do you ask?"

Myrtle gazed at him in astonishment. There was something different about him, and it was making her nervous. There was something queer in his eyes and the way he was looking at her.

Tom cleared his throat, which made Myrtle realize that she was gawking at him impolitely. "Oh – sorry. It's nothing."

"I am quite glad that you are back at last," Tom continued. "I've...been thinking about you."

A shiver went up Myrtle's spine. He had been thinking about her! He actually wanted to see _her_! "Really?" she asked, trying to hide her excitement.

"I need to talk to you about something. Can you meet me tonight? I'll be outside again, around eight."

"I guess so, but – "

"Perfect. I'll see you then."

And he was off, without even allowing Myrtle to finish saying "but it's raining!" _What an odd boy_, she thought.

But she had another date with Tom Riddle, and she was more ecstatic than ever. What could he possibly want to talk to her about? Was he going to ask her to be his girlfriend? She squealed at this idea, and ran to the Hufflepuff table to tell her Housemates the news.

It was certainly turning out to be Myrtle's lucky day, as the Hufflepuffs seemed to have noticed Tom talking to her. They watched her with curious expressions carved on their faces, puzzled as to why Tom Riddle would want to talk to Myrtle. Lily was the first to speak when Myrtle sat down.

"Was Tom Riddle actually talking to _you_?"

Myrtle nodded, grinning widely. "But – but – what would he want to talk to _you_ for? He's gorgeous!"

"I told you that he likes me! And tonight he's taking me on another date, and this time he is going to ask me to be his girlfriend!"

The others were silent for a moment, but then they burst into laughter. "_You? _His _girlfriend?_" one of them snickered.

Myrtle was annoyed. "Of course! Didn't you guys just see me talking to him?"

"That doesn't mean he likes you, foolish girl! He was probably just telling you off for pestering him so much," another one said.

"Yeah, who'd want to go out with you? You're spotty and hideous!" laughed a girl in her fifth year.

Myrtle was started to become furious. "He does so like me! He was telling me that he's been thinking about me, and that he wants to tell me something later tonight."

But the others wouldn't listen. "Tom Riddle could have any girl in the school," Lily tried to explain to her. "And there is no way that he would choose you."

"You know, I've never even seen Tom Riddle with a girlfriend," someone suddenly spoke up.

"It's true, he seems to have no interest in any of the girls at Hogwarts. It's quite odd."

"That's because he's too wonderful for any Hogwarts girl," said the fifth-year girl.

The other girls giggled, while Myrtle angrily ate her breakfast. "Or," spoke another Hufflepuff, "maybe he has his eyes on one special girl!"

The girls giggled again, wondering who that special girl could possibly be. "It must be a Slytherin," Lily said. "Tom is a Pureblood and I can't see him with anyone who doesn't come from a family as wealthy and prestigious as his."

"No, Tom's a Half-blood," Myrtle corrected her. "And he's not wealthy, he lives in an orphanage."

The others ignored her. "Well, I wonder who he could possibly have his eyes on," spoke the fifth-year girl. "I don't think anybody at this school is good enough for him. He turns down every girl who asks him out, I've heard."

While the others gushed about Tom, an idea occurred to Myrtle. Perhaps the others were right; maybe Tom liked only one special girl at school...and maybe it was Myrtle! After all, he had never dated any girls at the castle, and he turned down anyone who did ask him. But hadn't he asked Myrtle out? Twice? And, hadn't he confided in Myrtle about being an orphan and a Half-blood? She doubted that many people even knew those facts about Tom.

She felt her excitement grew once more. Tom really did like her! Out of all the girls at the castle, he wanted _her _to be his girlfriend!

At this thought, she jumped up from her half-eaten breakfast with great enthusiasm. The others looked at her curiously. "What's gotten into you, Moaning Myrtle?"

She didn't answer but instead darted out of the chamber. The others remained in their seats, puzzled as ever. "Oh, it's nothing new," Lily answered. "She's always ridiculous like that. She's a lunatic, that girl."

...

If Myrtle had found it difficult to wait for her first date with Tom, it was nothing compared to the excitement she was feeling now. Her classes had been impossible, and more than one teacher had caught her daydreaming. She had been embarrassed and ridiculed by her classmates on many occasions, but today their taunting did not dispirit her.

She had picked out a nice dress for this evening. It was Cynthia's, of course, as she always had pretty dresses. It was purple and silky, and Myrtle squealed as she peered at herself in the mirror after slipping it on. She combed her hair over and over, wishing that it wasn't so flat, but finally secured it with a hairclip and peered at the mirror once more.

If only they could go on a more romantic date, she thought sadly. It would have been lovely to go to Hogsmede and dine in a nice restaurant or even a simple cafe. Anything was better than walking around in the rain. _But I mustn't be so selfish_, she decided later, _it's nice of Tom to spend his time with me in the first place. Besides, he can't go to Hogsmede because of his parents._

She suddenly felt sorry for Tom as she thought about this. It was probably very difficult for him to adjust without a family, and Myrtle decided that she would be happy anywhere with him.

The clock finally struck half past seven. Myrtle grabbed her umbrella and ran down the stairs, two steps at a time. Upon opening the castle doors, she found that it was actually pouring and she was drenched within minutes.

She looked down at her soiled dress in frustration and waited for Tom to arrive.

This time, he wasn't late. She saw him approaching and her heart pounded. This time he didn't look so apathetic and languid but actually seemed interested. "Hello," he greeted her politely.

"H-hi," she stammered. She couldn't help but noticed how lovely he looked in the rain, despite his pale and tired appearance. The raindrops gleamed on his forehead like little pearls, and his hair looked absolutely delicious when it was messy and wet.

"Shall we go to the lake again?" he asked her, and she wondered if he had lost his mind.

Unable to resist his beauty, however, Myrtle wholeheartedly agreed and the pair walked down to the river clutching their umbrellas. She noticed that he still did not speak and she tried to strike up a conversation.

"My Easter holidays were lovely," she told him. "We went skiing, and – "

"Mmhm, that's nice," he interrupted.

Myrtle stopped talking but tried again. "How was yours? Did you do anything fun?"

"No."

She stopped talking and an awkward silence rose. After walking around the lake, Myrtle's teeth began to chatter. "It's really cold," she complained.

"Isn't it wonderful? I really do like the cold. It makes me numb."

This was a peculiar response, but Myrtle did not question him. Instead she continued following him until the coldness finally began to overwhelm her. "Tom, don't you think we should get inside? I mean, it's raining really hard. I'm soaking wet."

Tom narrowed his eyes but turned back toward the castle without uttering a word. _He hasn't even looked at me,_ she pouted to herself.

They entered the castle soaking wet, even though they had been carrying umbrellas. Myrtle pouted alongside him in disappointment, wondering when he was going to talk to her. What was it that he had wanted to tell her?

Tom dried himself with his wand, and Myrtle imitated him. She wasn't normally good with spells, but fortunately he did not notice that her dress was still wet after she had gone over it with her wand three times. "So Tom, what was it that you wanted to tell me?" she finally decided to ask him.

"Oh, it was nothing," he answered blandly, and they continued walking around the building aimlessly.

Myrtle was getting more and more frustrated. She hadn't expected him to take her anywhere nice, but this was ridiculous. Were they even going to talk? "Why don't we sit down?" she suggested hopefully.

Tom nodded curtly and they seated themselves on a secluded bench. For a minute neither of them spoke, but Tom briefly interrupted the silence. "Your dress it still wet."

Myrtle blushed. "Didn't you already dry it three times?" he asked her curiously.

She blushed again. "Well, yes, but I'm just not used to this spell," she answered lamely.

"I'll show you how it's done properly," he retorted, somehow rudely. He pulled out his wand and waved it over her dress, barely uttering the spell. Immediately Myrtle felt a tingling warmth crawl up her body and her clothes were dry in an instant.

Minutes passed. Slowly they began to talk, although Tom did not particularly contribute much to their conversation. Myrtle's heart was sinking; it didn't look as though he wanted her to be his girlfriend after all. What had gone wrong? Had she done or said something to turn him off?

"Well, there hasn't been another attack in a long time at least," she randomly spoke when another silence filled the air.

Tom nodded dully. "I'm relieved," she continued. "I hope the Mandrakes are grown soon. I miss Fiona so much."

Tom yawned.

"Uh, I never told my parents about the attacks," she continued uselessly. "I didn't want them to worry. I figure the –"

"What do you know about Horcruxes?" he blurted out suddenly.

Myrtle was startled. "What? Why do you ask?" Immediately her eyes opened wide. "Is that what's been attacking everyone?"

There was a sudden change in Tom's face that even she couldn't fail to notice. His eyes abruptly grew sharper and more piercing. She imagined that she even saw some color emerge in his pallid face. "I beg your pardon?" he answered coldly.

Myrtle was bewildered. "What do you mean?"

"What do you know about Horcruxes?" he repeated, but this time the tone was more demanding.

"Uh, n-not much," she stammered. "Actually I don't think – I don't really know what they are. I figured they're some kind of monsters or dragons or something. They're some sort of creatures aren't they?"

Tom looked so furious that Myrtle was confused. Why was he suddenly so angry? What had she said?

She tried to change the conversation, but it didn't work. Tom stared at her strangely, as if he wondering if she was telling the truth. He spoke again, this time more slowly yet harshly. "Where did you hear of Horcruxes?" he demanded. "It's not something little girls just know about. And you're a Muggle-born, so you didn't hear it from your parents."

Her confusion did not fade. She didn't want to answer but there was something about his voice that scared her. She blushed in embarrassment as she recalled why she had heard it, but felt that she had no choice but to tell him.

"I heard it from Professor Slughorn," she said softly.

Tom couldn't hide his surprise at this. "Slughorn? What did he tell you?"

"Well, he didn't tell me, exactly. I was – I was failing his class, you see, so he lent me one of his books for an essay about Unforgivable Curses. The book was about really dark things, really scary and grotesque creatures and spells..." Myrtle trailed off, shuddering as she remembered that awful book. "It was a restricted book...Professor said he didn't want to lend it out but I really needed it and there was nothing at the library...He said he'll get in trouble if I tell anybody about it, though. You won't tell him I told you, will you? I don't want him to –"

"What did that book say about Horcruxes?" he snapped, his patience faltering.

Myrtle trembled. "I – I don't know. I didn't read it. I only remember seeing that word in that book. Y-you're scaring me," she sobbed.

She avoided looking at him, as she could feel him boiling in anger. She did not understand why he was suddenly so vexed, or what was so special about Horcruxes but she just wanted to leave. "Can – can we talk about s-something else?" she asked quietly.

He stared at her without speaking. He gave her the most despicable look, one of pure loathing and anger.

Then, without uttering a single word, he coldly stood up from his seat and turned to leave without glancing at her again. "Where are you going?" she called, unable to stop her tears from flowing. "Tom? Why are you mad?"

There was no response, and within seconds he was out of her sight. Myrtle remained on the bench, sobbing and completely unaware of what she had done to make Tom so livid.


	17. Mesmerized

_Disclaimer: All characters and events are based on the Harry Potter series owned by J.. I do not make any money by writing this story._

Hmm, I seem to be missing a few reviewers. I hope that people haven't stopped reading, as we're getting closer to the end. Thank you to those who have reviewed, however.

Anyway, I tried to make this chapter a bit sweeter and somehow romantic, but it did not happen this way. Naughty, naughty Tom ;)

* * *

_Seventeen: Mesmerized_

He had to talk to Slughorn.

He had no other option; clearly that Mudblood knew nothing useful and there were no books in which Tom could find information. Except for Slughorn's book, of course, but he doubted that even that would explain how a person could create more than one Horcrux. Talking to him would be the best idea, although he needed to ensure that he would arouse no suspicion.

Tom knew that Professor Slughorn had a particular fancy for candied pineapple, and had already purchased a box as a part of his design. The conversation would have to be delicately and smoothly planned before hand.

He was still in a foul mood, especially after that night with Myrtle. The unexpected spell of weakness had slightly subsided due to his anger, but uneasiness and distraught still lingered. The sleeping draught hadn't really had much of an effect, he had found, as stealing rest had only led to greater bouts of sleeplessness. Postponing his stress had only made it even worse and more difficult to tolerate.

Tom laid his quill on the table. He read over his essay with minimal interest and hastily slipped it into his bag. The irritation, the stomach aches, those _feelings_...they would not leave until he talked to her once more. He understood it now. He needed to find her and let her know, and only then would he regain his strength once more.

Gathering his belongings, Tom left the library. He knew where she would be.

He did not get much far, however, as someone was approaching him with a smug grin. "Mesmer," Tom said icily.

Pollux's grin widened. "Well, I've done it."

"Done what, exactly?"

Pollux snickered. "Wouldn't you like to know, heh."

Tom's irritation was growing. "I have something important to do, and seeing as your rudeness and arrogance have not vanished, I shall now leave you."

The hideous boy snorted a rather impudent manner. "I've got things to do too," he snickered. "Important things, like you said. I'll show you, Half-blood." He sneered at the last word.

"Alright then," replied Tom as he set off. Pollux's strange behaviour was clearly not going to disappear any time soon, but Tom's interest was beginning to fade. He had more important things on his mind now.

He needed to see her, before it was too late.

...

A shrill, high-pitched wailing echoed throughout the bathroom. Myrtle had been sobbing and shrieking for what seemed like aeons. Her sleeves were entirely drenched with tears and snot. Her eyes were red and her cheeks puffy, and she was truly a mess to look at.

Myrtle didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore. Tom hadn't seen her for an entire week nor talked to her. She couldn't even understand why he was so angry at her. She hadn't done anything to make him upset, had she?

She let out another hideous shriek. It was so unfair; everything awful happened to her and only her! Nobody had believed that she had went out with Tom, nobody believed that anyone could like Myrtle, and nobody cared that she had spent the whole week crying in a secluded bathroom!

She turned the tap and allowed the gushing water to overfill the sink. "I might as well drown myself in the sink!" she cried. "That would show them!"

She burst into fresh tears. There was nobody to care, even if she did drown herself. Nobody liked her. Fiona wasn't with her anymore. She had absolutely no friend.

Her heart suddenly stopped beating as she heard somebody turn the knob of the bathroom door. Who would be entering this bathroom, when everyone knew that Myrtle had occupied it all week to cry? Nobody set foot in this loo anymore, as it was rather bothersome to have to listen to her dreadful noises.

Curiously, she turned off the tap and peered at the door. It swung open, and in burst Tom Riddle himself.

At first she did not believe that it was him. He seemed to be walking differently, and there was something strange about the expression on his face.

_He was grinning._

He walked closer, and Myrtle stepped toward him and saw that it was indeed Tom. She let out another horrible cry.

"What are you doing here? Have you come to tease me and then leave me again?"

"Of course not, why would I do a thing like that?"

Myrtle was silent as she gazed at the boy. His dashing looks seemed to light up the dim bathroom. It was impossible to remain upset with him.

"You – you just walked away that last time," she sniffed. "I was so upset. I've been crying ever since."

She loudly blew her nose into her sleeves. This time Tom did not look repulsed but only stood still, staring at her.

"You know, darling, I am quite fond of you," he drawled smoothly.

Myrtle opened her eyes wide. "Really?"

Tom laughed and nodded. "Yes. And there is something I've wanted to do now for a long time."

He came closer. He reached out his hand and slowly ran his fingers through her hair. Myrtle would have squealed with delight had she not been so nervous.

Then, to her astonishment, he leaned over and touched her lips gently with his own. Myrtle gasped. Her first kiss!

She felt him slide his tongue into her mouth. She did not know what to do, so she allowed him to caress her tongue. A strange warm tingling coursed through her body as she remained close to him. She could smell his strong, musky scent emanating off his school robes. Delight rippled through her, but in a moment he pulled away from her lips.

"Come in here," he said softly, and pulled her into the nearest toilet stall. Immediately her excitement rose, and she followed him with eager curiosity.

Once they were both in the stall, Tom locked the door behind them and grabbed her by the cloak. Myrtle frowned, suddenly becoming nervous.

"Tom? Why – why did you lock the door?"

He didn't answer but instead began fondling with the buttons on her cloak. He pried them open and yanked it off her. Her fear began to rise.

"Tom? Did you hear what I said? I – I don't think anyone is going to come in this bathroom anyway, so let's just open the door..."

He forced his lips upon hers once more, but this time the kiss was much rougher. She broke away from it. "This stall is too cramped! Can we get out of here, please?" she pleaded.

He looked annoyed. "Just stop fidgeting. I haven't got much time, lass, just stay still and it'll be over soon."

Her eyes widened. "What will be over soon? Tom? You're making me nervous now."

He did not reply, but instead proceeded to force his lips on her again. His hands grabbed her body and he groped her stomach and reached upwards to her chest. Myrtle was now beginning to panic. "I – I don't want to do this anymore," she whispered, but it was of no use.

"Hold still!" he growled.

She complied, tears beginning to swell in her eyes. His hands reached the buttons of her robes and he violently yanked them off. He ripped her robes off her, and within seconds Myrtle was standing below him wearing only her knickers.

Tom stepped back to examine her and snickered loudly. "You're not much to look at, are you little girl?"

A stream of tears cascaded down her face and she tried in vain to conceal her tiny chest. He continued staring at her with an amused expression on his face. Then he was upon her.

She struggled in his arms, although it was of no use. Tom was not going to let her go. It didn't seem to matter to him if she objected to his touch.

His cold hands made their way up her tiny body, making her shiver with dread. They reached her miniscule breasts and pinched them tightly. Myrtle shuddered. To her horror, Tom then grabbed her back and bent down. He captured her breast into his mouth and rolled his tongue over it.

Myrtle shivered again, but found that it wasn't so bad. She kind of liked this peculiar sensation. His tongue felt warm and soft around her nipple, and she found a soft moan escape her lips.

Suddenly he grabbed the nipple with his teeth and bit it hard. Myrtle cried out as a sharp pain rippled through her. Tom released her breast from his mouth and grinned widely. "Ah, so she does moan."

Her face flushed with embarrassment as he stood up. She looked down at her chest and realized that a small stream of blood was flowing from her nipple. Her breast was red and swollen. Tears flowed down her face again.

"I don't want to do this, Tom," she whimpered. "Please let me go."

But he ignored her cries. Instead, he slid his cold hands down her body and rested for a moment over her knickers. "No," she cried. "Please don't."

Grinning, Tom reached into her underwear and ripped it in two. She shrieked in terror as he pried the fabric out of her and carelessly tossed them aside. Her hands flew to the delicate area in an attempt to conceal herself from his uncomfortable stare but he slapped them away. She sobbed helplessly, standing naked before the older boy.

"I don't want to be here," she sobbed quietly. She did not want him to stare at her body and make her feel so helpless. She knew that she was ugly; she did not want his cold eyes to snatch away her privacy.

He moved even closer to her, grinning as she trembled before him. Why was he doing this? Tom wasn't like this, he couldn't be!

He was holding her tightly against the door of the stall now. She was completely trapped. Tom released one hand from her and reached into his own robes. Myrtle trembled. "No, no, please don't," she begged, even though she knew it was useless.

She closed her eyes and suddenly felt something press against her legs. It was cold and hard and of a magnificent length. She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing it would be over. She was far too young for this. It was only moments ago had that she received her first kiss. She couldn't do _this_...

His body trapped her against the door once more and this time he shoved into her. Myrtle screamed as the organ slid into her tight opening. She felt herself tear, and a searing pain jolted her.

He shoved into her again, and she screamed once more. He laughed softly, muttering to her. "Quiet little girl, it'll all be over soon."

He thrust into her again. Once more the searing pain filled her entire body, and she shook and writhed under his weight. Her tears were like a waterfall gushed down her reddened face, and snot was pouring from her nose. He shoved and shoved, the pain tearing through Myrtle and overwhelming her.

It seemed as if hours were passing, even though Myrtle knew that it lasted only a few minutes. It seemed as if this pain would never end. She had no room to breathe, as she was trapped between the door and Tom's body. She felt weak and thought that she would faint, wondering how she could stay conscious. She knew that if Tom weren't holding her, her knees would give out and she would crumble to her floor.

At last he came, but she did not feel it. The euphoria evidently met his body, but the pleasure was his and only his. He remained still for a moment, gasping. Finally he let go and fastened his trousers. He grinned. "Well, that was fun, wasn't it little girl?"

Myrtle did not speak. The pain and fear had overwhelmed her so that she could not move. She stood rigid against the door, unable to speak. She could see blood dripping from between her legs, and she felt incredibly sore. "You're tighter than I imagined," he continued, smirking. "Guess that's one useful thing about you, isn't that right? Heh heh."

Even though he was no longer holding her, Myrtle had no strength to bend down and pick up her clothes. She could not even cover herself up with her hands. She remained still, shocked and exposed. Tom seemed to notice this.

"What's this, lass? Can't get enough?"

Silence.

He laughed heartily. "I've got to run though, pudding. But come and see me again and we'll have another go."

He reached behind Myrtle and pulled the door handle. "Bye now, doll," he remarked as he left, giving her a sharp slap on her bottom.

Myrtle winced, but she did not move until he left. When she heard him close the bathroom door, she threw herself on the toilet, and without even bothering to get dressed, she wept and wept.


	18. A Venus Kissed Mars

_Disclaimer: All characters and events are based on the Harry Potter series owned by J.. I do not make any money by writing this story._

There are two more chapters after this, and I should have them both up before Saturday :D Thanks for the reviews. It's always nice to know that I can write good rape scenes, lol. And yes, Myrtle will confront Tom about what happened, I think in the next chapter.

Here comes the plot twist! If you're puzzled about this chapter, it'll all be clear in the next. Enjoy!!

* * *

_Eighteen: A Venus-Kissed Mars_

Still puzzled by Mesmer's behaviour, Tom headed to the Slytherin dungeons. He knew that she would be in the common room, working on her assignments by the fire as she usually did.

He entered the common room and found that his prediction was correct. The chamber was deserted, since most people were in the Great Hall eating dinner. Tom, however, wasn't hungry. He needed only to get these _feelings _off his chest. He approached her cautiously.

She looked up abruptly and smiled. "Tom," she said in her soft voice, laying her quill on the table.

Tom did not smile. "Hello Druella," he said quietly.

"What are you up to? Please sit."

Tom did not sit. "I have something to say to you."

Druella's light blue eyes opened wide with curiosity. "What is it, Tom? Are you alright?"

He didn't speak for a moment. Druella sat still waiting for him to respond, her hands resting gently on her lap and her eyes warm and soft. For a minute Tom had a burning urge to reach out and feel the smoothness of her skin and her pretty hair. Anger boiled in him immediately for thinking this, and he quickly regained his strength.

He cleared his throat. "I – I think that I am rather fond of you."

Druella didn't look surprised but merely gazed at him carefully. Tom seated himself next to her and for quite a long time neither of them spoke. He stared at the fire crackling before them, but found that Druella's fair complexion and her golden locks were much more illuminating than the flames. This time he could not stop himself from thinking of her beauty, and he reached out and gently touched her face.

Her skin was smooth and warm. It was a sensation that Tom had never before experienced; this warmth...

He edged closer, as did she. He moved toward her hair and found that it did indeed smell clean and fresh...like lotuses and lilies...and coconuts and summer rain...and everything else soft and gentle...

He felt as if he was under an intoxicating love spell as he moved his head closer to hers. He did not know what was moving him, but he soon found his face touch hers and his lips lightly brush against hers. Tom pressed against her mouth and felt her respond.

His heart was burning, his insides melting with the warmth of her touch. Her taste was like a blinding ecstasy, lovely yet cruel, stealing his power away from him. His strength would surely drain away in her scorching embrace and leave him shivering.

Druella broke apart from the kiss and gazed at Tom with regret. "I don't think this is a good idea," she spoke quietly.

Tom was vexed. _Not a good idea?_ After all he had endured, after sacrificing his own strength and after confessing to her that he liked her, she was actually turning him away? Who was she to hold such power over him?!

"What do you mean?" he demanded angrily.

Druella did not seem the least frightened at his anger. She sat composed and rigid, her delicate visage a deluding facade of the coldness and strength hidden beneath her shell. "This cannot work Tom," she said calmly.

"And why not?"

Druella sighed. "You know why. You know my parents. They will never be satisfied with me being with anyone less that a Pureblood, Tom, you know that. I'm sorry."

Tom did not speak but merely stared at her in disbelief.

"I wish it didn't have to be this way. I really do."

She reached out her hand in pity and gently pressed it against his face. "You know, you really are quite beautiful, Tom," she whispered. "If only...if only things were different."

There was nothing else to say, was there? This was it. He had been foolish enough to admire her, and this was his punishment.

"Oh Tom, don't make this harder than it already is..."

At this, he pulled away from her sharply. "Hard?" he snorted. "What is so hard about turning me down, I would like to know? Have you any idea the humiliation and pain I have suffered through during the past few weeks? No, of course not."

He stood up angrily. A grimace of pity swept over Druella's face and she stood up as well. "I said I'm sorry –"

"Nothing less than a Pureblood?" he spat. "I am Salazaar Slytherin's very own descendent! I am the one and only Slytherin's heir, and how dare you talk to me in such a way!"

Druella was silent. "You don't look so well," she said finally. "You're so pale...and your eyes appear to be – burning...how peculiar those eyes are..."

She reached her hand out again to touch him, but Tom snatched it away. "Don't ever touch me," he snarled icily. "Keep away. I do not need you or anybody else. I've been alone for sixteen years and everything has been perfect. I do not need your affection or your pity. I was fine before I ever met you."

Druella had never before felt this sorry for someone. It seemed as though Tom had never experience the feeling of being wanted or of being loved. Ever since she had known him he had seemed like an odd, lonely boy, but she had never realized just how lonely he was. The worst part was that he did not realize it himself!

"I feel really sorry for you," she found herself coldly remark.

Tom grew silent, as if these words had slapped him sharply across the face. Then, laughing bitterly he answered, "For me? But whatever for? No, I am quite happy with my powers and talent. I have no feelings or emotions; I did at a time, for you, but now I've learned better. You must realize, dear girl, that feelings are really quite a nuisance. I cannot achieve great things if I have a conscious, can I? How can I hurt people and use them to my gains if I begin to care about them?" He laughed louder. "No, don't you see? Your feelings are a weakness, pretty Druella, and it is not me whom you should pity. It is _you_ who I feel sorry for."


	19. Who is Crying For You Here?

_Disclaimer: All characters and events are based on the Harry Potter series owned by J.. I do not make any money by writing this story._

Only two reviews for the last chapter...I hope I'm not losing readers :( Especially for these two last chapters.

Here's the explanation for what happened to Myrtle. More will be explained in the following chapter. Enjoy. I hope I get more reviews this time.

_

* * *

Nineteen: Who is Crying For You Here?_

It was the first night in a long time that Tom was able to enjoy a long, restful sleep. He felt as if a magnificent weight had been lifted off him. He had been foolish, but now he knew better. Weakness would never again take him, for he was none other than Lord Voldemort.

Tom awoke this morning later than he typically did. A stir of commotions and a few loud shrieks jerked him immediately out of his peaceful sleep. He lay awake for a moment. Then, smiling, he rose.

After getting dressed, he made his way into the common room. A large herd of Slytherins were gathered there; many looking shocked and frightened, a few crying, and most looking merely confused. At once, the doors of the Slytherin dungeons drew open and Professor Dippet burst into the common room.

"Off you all go!" he roared to the idle students. "Leave the common room at once! There is nothing to see here."

A group of teachers and staff members followed after him, directing students out of the chamber. Tom spied his classmates and quickly followed them. "What's going on?" he asked when they were away from the crowd.

Malfoy snickered. "A house-elf found Pollux's body lying unconscious on the floor. His brain was bleeding."

"Do you suppose that he's dead?" asked Lestrange.

Cygnus shook his head. "They say that he has permanent brain damage. He may as well be dead though, that hideous brute."

"But – how did it happen?" Avery asked.

"They're saying that he accidently cast some messy spell on himself. Nobody has any idea what he was trying to do, but his wand was lying on the ground beside him so they reckon he tried some spell and it obviously backfired."

"Do you think he was attacked by someone?" Tom asked carefully.

Malfoy shook his head. "They haven't found any evidence of that. They only found a bunch of books about potions and hexes that he had stolen from the restricted section of the library – he was trying to cast some dangerous curse or something. Some of those books were really fucked up, I tell you."

"Yeah, and being as thick as he was, it's not surprising that whatever curse he was practising backfired and hit him instead," chuckled Lestrange. "What a doltish git!"

"I wish I'd been there," Cygnus snickered. "I heard that there was blood everywhere."

"It would have hilarious," Avery agreed. "I'd give anything to see that foolish oaf blow his own brains out!"

The others burst into laughter. "You guys are so barbaric!" exclaimed Druella. "That poor boy was clearly in a lot of pain; he did not deserve that!"

Silence ensued. Tom watched in amusement.

"Why, Druella? Hadn't you always said that Pollux Mesmer is an atrocious and foul creature? Didn't you hate him as much as the rest of us?" he asked quietly.

Druella's face turned a shade of pink. "Well, yes," she admitted. "But what happened was really awful!"

"But why should you feel any pity for him, when he himself was so awful? Did he not deserve it for being a proud, foolish, idiot?"

"No," protested Druella. "It wasn't his fault that it happened. He was awful, I know, but...it's just a terrible thing to happen to anyone!"

A satisfied grin slowly swept across Tom's handsome face. "That, my Druella, is a weakness. I pity you for your foolish compassion, and perhaps one day you will understand how it really is a nuisance."

An awkward silence followed this, and none of them spoke until they reached the corridor to the Great Hall. Tom began to turn the other direction, but Malfoy stopped him. "Aren't you going to have breakfast with us?"

Tom shook his head politely, still smiling. "No. I have things to take care of today, I'm afraid."

"We're going to Hogsmede after we eat," Avery said. "You're not coming as usual, we'll assume?"

He shook his head again. The others shrugged and entered the Great Hall. "Wait, you go," Druella suddenly said to Black, who had reached for her hand. "I'll join you in a minute."

Cygnus nodded and left with the others, and only Tom and Druella remained. "Well, I guess this is it," Tom said coolly. "Perhaps I'll see you around."

"Wait," she replied.

Tom remained standing despite the fact that he had no desire to talk to her again. "Yes? What is it?"

She looked at him nervously, running her fingers down her thick wavy locks. "Er, Cygnus asked me to go to Hogsmede...with him, you know. Are you – are you alright with this?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" he answered coldly.

She hesitated. Tom couldn't help thinking that she looked absolutely beautiful at this highly awkward moment, but easily shrugged off his thoughts.

"Because – you know, what happened last night...Well, I'm glad that you're fine. Um, see you Tom."

"Goodbye," was his blunt reply.

She walked into the Great Hall, but suddenly stopped at turned to him. "But –" she began.

Tom felt his adrenaline rise. "Yes? What is it, Druella?"

With apparent pain, she quickly shook her head. "It's nothing. Good – goodbye Tom. Take care."

Tom nodded. Druella turned around and made her way into the chamber, gracefully striding to the seat which Cygnus was saving for her.

For a minute, Tom felt an odd sensation crawling up his body. It stopped at his throat, and it felt as if it was burning. Tom coughed, attempting to remove this peculiar lump from his throat. Finally the burning ceased and, clearing his throat, Tom strolled along.

This was the last time he ever spoke to her.

...

Myrtle had been sobbing continuously since the previous night. How could he have done it to her? He had hurt her...in a way that she had never hurt before. She did not understand how it was possible to feel this way; to feel this cheap and abused and exploited, yet still longing for more.

He was the first boy that had ever kissed her. He was the only one that had ever shown an interest in her. Was she perhaps merely overreacting, then? Should she have been happy that he had...done _that_ to her? Did it really matter that she had not wanted his touch?

She wiped away her tears. She was still sore and aching, but now she had begun to feel numb. Her head was aching with confusion. She needed to talk to Tom. She needed to understand what had happened...and why he had proceeded touching her even after she had explicitly begged him not to.

She had been wandering about aimlessly since around five in the morning. She couldn't sleep. Her dreams were short and troubled. She was aching too much.

She saw a figure approach, but she could barely pay attention. But the figure stopped at her. "Myrtle? What's wrong? You look awful," remarked Edward Weasley with concern in his voice.

She nodded. Because she knew she looked awful. Everyone told her so. Awful, ugly, spotty Myrtle; that's who she was.

"Are you alright?" he asked, growing alarmed.

Myrtle couldn't answer. She merely gazed at him with her eyes wide and starry. "I haven't changed my clothes since yesterday. Look here, there's still snot from when I was crying."

Edward looked baffled. "Should I take you to the Hospital Wing?"

Myrtle shook her head. "What's the point? It won't get better."

"Was it – was it Tom Riddle? Did he do this to you?"

Myrtle sighed. "Ohh, he's so dreamy," she gushed. "You know what he told me last night?" she said suddenly. "He said that he's fond of me. He did."

Edward did not know how to answer her. "And...are you fond of him?"

She sighed and nodded. "He's so perfect. I wish I could be with him forever and ever!"

"Come now," Edward said finally. "We'd better get you to Madam Turelli."

...

The nurse gave her some sleeping draught and a tablet to cure her soreness. Myrtle did not tell her what had happened of course; she didn't think she could tell anyone what had happened. She drank the potion and swallowed the tablet without saying a word and fell into a long, dreamless sleep.

When she awoke, her head was swimming with questions. She needed to see Tom.

After assuring the nurse that she felt fine, Myrtle scampered into the hallway. It was already dinnertime. Perhaps Tom would be in the Great Hall.

She turned the corridor to the chamber but was abruptly stopped by a group of fourth year girls. Among them, Myrtle saw with dread building in her stomach, was Olive Hornby.

"Well, well, well," she smirked with delight. "What do we have here? Where have you been, Moaning Myrtle? We've missed you greatly."

"Leave me alone," Myrtle snapped. "Today isn't a good day."

"Are you searching for Tom Riddle again, ugly Myrtle? Because I would give up if I were you. He isn't into hideous spotty girls with large, ugly glasses."

Normally she would have burst into tears at this simple remark, but today Myrtle had more important things on her mind. "None of your damn business" Myrtle snarled.

Olive was surprised at this outburst, but she grinned. "Why so cranky today, Moaning Myrtle? Have you finally realized how hideous and worthless you are?"

The others snickered at her, waiting to see when Myrtle would burst into tears and run out. Myrtle, however, did not cry but merely grew angrier and angrier with each taunting. "Nobody will ever want you," one of them giggled. "Especially not Tom Riddle!"

"For your information, Tom and I have already been on two dates!"

The others laughed. "That's ridiculous!" Olive spat. "Tom wouldn't want you, stupid girl. Don't lie."

"I'm not lying!" Myrtle shouted. "Not only have we gone out, but just last night Tom made love to me! We did it in the girl's bathroom upstairs!"

The others stopped talking and gazed at her in awe. "You're lying," Olive said. "There is no possible way that Tom Riddle would sleep with you."

"It's true!" Myrtle screamed. "It's true, it's true!"

Through her screaming, Myrtle did not notice Tom approaching. The others turned as still as stone, eager to see what would happen now.

Olive immediately rushed over to him. "Moaning Myrtle here is trying to convince everyone that you shagged her last night in the girl's bathroom!"

Tom looked puzzled. "Tell them, Tom!" Myrtle screamed. "Tell them what happened last night!"

Tom's face remained smooth and calm. Not even a hint of emotion appeared to pass through him as he coldly uttered the words, "I would never touch a Mudblood like you with a ten-foot pole."

Her jaws dropped open. The others burst into snickers. "I told you she was lying," Olive proclaimed, pleased.

Myrtle rushed over to Tom, who was now walking away. "Why didn't you tell them?" she cried. "They'll think I'm a liar now too!"

"I never have, and never will, touch you in any way," Tom replied. "You didn't really think that I had an interest in you, did you?"

Tears were now threatening to emerge. "But – but," she spluttered. "What about last night?"

Tom seemed as if a sudden realization had hit him, and he grinned in amusement. "Ah, I was wondering what Mesmer was brewing that Polyjuice Potion for."

Myrtle was stunned. "Wh-what?"

He chuckled. "Don't you understand? That wasn't me last night. Pollux Mesmer stole some of my hair and used it in a Polyjuice Potion. I should have figured that it was you he was after. He had a strangely disgusting attraction to you. I wondered why he was acting so strange, I should have realized..." He laughed again, as if the idea of Myrtle getting raped was hilarious. "Of course, I'm not at all happy that he used my belongings without my permission and made himself a duplicate of me. But I must admit that this is quite funny."

Myrtle was in utter disbelief. She did not know what she could even say or think – everything that she had once known seemed completely irrelevant and meaningless now. "But don't worry," Tom continued, "he won't exactly be bothering you any longer, will he?" At this, he burst into a strange, eerie laughter that made Myrtle shudder. "Not after what I did to him last night after finding that potion, anyway."

She barely realized that tears were dripping down her face like great waterfalls. She didn't notice anyone else around them; the entire world was spinning right before her and everything that she thought she knew was a jumbled mess in her head.

Tom stopped laughing. "You know, I will admit that you have been quite helpful. It was my mistake in assuming that you had some hidden intelligence that no one else had noticed, but I realize now that you are merely an idiotic little girl. However, you did give me a wonderful idea, and I thank you for that. I have spoken to Slughorn, and I can now honestly tell you that you, dear Mudblood, will indeed be my _second_." He grinned.

Myrtle had no idea what he was saying, but found that nothing really mattered now anyway. It was all awful. _They_ were all awful. Myrtle peered at Tom for one last time, and noticed that he looked much better than he had the last few times she had seen him. His face was pale as usual, but today it was glowing in an odd way. His previously sunken eyes were now alive, yet somehow cruel. They appeared to hold within them some kind of a dark secret, one that made Myrtle shudder to even think about.


	20. The Perilous Eyes Meet Her Demise

_Disclaimer: All characters and events are based on the Harry Potter series owned by J.. I do not make any money by writing this story._

So Tom never liked Myrtle at all, he had feelings for only Druella. Mesmer was acting suspicious because he wanted to rape Myrtle - that's why he stole Tom's hat and was browsing through books from the Restricted Section. I think that Tom would have been able to convince Myrtle to have sex with him easily without having to rape her, as he is so persuasive and charming, but he had no intention to touch her. I can't even picture Tom having sex, to tell you the truth, especially with a Mudblood - even if it is rape.

Just for some extra information, I borrowed Mesmer's name from Anton Mesmer, who was a physician who used hypnosis and animal magnetism to cure patients and whose name is the root of the word "mesmerize". I used his name because he is associated with the theme of illusion, and Mesmer in my story brewed an illusion potion to deceive Myrtle (the polyjuice). I took the name "Pollux" from the Odysessy, mainly because I thought the name sounded more magical. Also, I named the chapter in which Mesmer rapes Myrtle "Mesmerized" as a hint, but I guess nobody caught on.

Anyway, thanks to the few people who reviewed regularly. This was indeed a fun story to write and I'm sorry that it's over now. I hope you have enjoyed it. Everybody knows what will happen in this chapter, so there isn't much else to say.

Enjoy the final chapter and please leave me a review.

P.S: In this chapter, Myrtle thinks at first that Mesmer is in the bathroom because she doesn't know what has happened to him, as she has been in the bathroom for nearly the entire day. Just thought I would clear that up.

* * *

_Twenty: The Perilous Eyes Meet Her Demise_

Once again, she was locked in the abandoned loo bawling uncontrollably. Though she had been feeling numb when the incident had first occurred, it seemed as if all her emotions and feelings had returned together and were flooding her all at once. She did not know how she could possibly cope with these overwhelming emotions.

This was the final straw. Ever since Myrtle had arrived at Hogwarts, she had continuously been the victim of countless teasing and pranks, and she had endured every single one of them with copious amount of tears. But this was something different. It was much bigger than mere taunting and bullying. Yet what could she do?

If Fiona hadn't been petrified, she would have comforted her. But then again, Myrtle had always had doubts that even Fiona didn't care about her. Fiona didn't have many friends either but she was relatively well-liked. She didn't always tolerate Myrtle's wailing, and they often fought a lot. Fiona was just like Cynthia; she was better than Myrtle in every way and was probably only kind to her because nobody else was. Myrtle wondered if there was anybody who _did _like her, and not simply felt sorry for her. She decided that there really wasn't anyone; after all, Myrtle was just a pathetic charity case.

She sobbed, wiping off her tears on her filthy robes. She hadn't changed since yesterday and her clothes were giving off a rather nasty stench, but she did not care about anything anymore. This was it, she had decided. No longer would she bear any more of their cruelty. She would leave Hogwarts first thing in the morning and never come back. Myrtle couldn't even bear the thought of leaving her cubicle; she never again wanted to face any of her classmates for the rest of her life.

She wailed loudly as she thought about Tom. Beautiful, wonderful, brilliant Tom – could he really be so cruel? How was it possible for such a wonderful boy to trample on her heart as he had done? She had really, truly believed that he had liked her. He was the only one who had been so warm and gentle to her. Why had he kept her around even though he hadn't liked her? Had he merely wanted to get her hopes up just to torture her? Just to watch her suffer?

It was too awful! Myrtle let out another high pitched wail. And he had called her – he had called her a Mudblood! She had thought that Tom didn't care whether or not she was Muggle-born. After all, wasn't he a Half-blood himself? No, Myrtle had thought that Tom was different. There had been something special about him. But he was no longer hers, and Myrtle realized with another wail that he never had been.

Myrtle couldn't even bear to think about what had taken place in that cubicle the night before. Of course she hadn't been pleased about it when it had happened, but this was much, much worse. She would've accepted it eventually if it was Tom who had done that to her, but _this_ was absolutely intolerable.

She had been raped by Pollux Mesmer; that hideous, awful, disgusting boy who had always made her shudder! How could anyone possibly be so terrible? What had Myrtle _ever _done to him to deserve this fate? She had felt so exposed and humiliated...Myrtle felt as if she would throw up merely thinking about it. She was trembling now as she recalled his body – which she had mistaken for Tom's – on her, forcing himself inside her own body and taking away the only piece of herself that she had left. She had been so foolish. Of course it couldn't have been Tom. Tom Riddle would never care about a hideous girl such as herself, and now she knew that the others had been right all along.

Myrtle sobbed as she recalled more of the previous night. She had always known that it wasn't him, she suddenly realized. The moment he had walked in the bathroom, she had noticed that he was walking differently. His speech had also seemed slurred, as if he was trying to conceal his accent, but Myrtle had been too naive and preoccupied with his charming looks to pay attention. Besides, Tom never talked to her the way that boy had – Pollux's speech was crude and dirty, whereas Tom's words were always polite and refined.

Myrtle's teeth chattered. "He was _in _me!" she suddenly cried aloud. "That nasty boy was actually _in _me!"

She hugged her knees as she swung back and forth on the floor of the cubicle. She did not care that the floor was filthy and that she was a mess to look at – after all, why would any of this even matter? Nobody loved her, everybody treated her abysmally, and she had been abused and humiliated regularly for as long as she could remember. Tom Riddle hated her and always had; she had been an utter fool to think that someone like him would ever be interested in her.

She heard the door open but she paid no attention. She heard footsteps approach her cubicle, but she did not stir. They quietly walked past her and continued walking.

Myrtle suddenly grew terrified. What if it was Pollux? What if he had come to rape her again? She burst into tears and shouted, "go away! Leave me alone, Pollux!"

Whoever it was, they paid her no attention. Myrtle wondered if it was actually another student who had come to use the loo, but she knew that it was highly unlikely that anybody would use this particular bathroom at this time of the night.

She grew still as she heard the person mutter something. It was a strange sort of language with hissing noises – the same one Myrtle had heard on the first night Tom had come into the loo. "Tom? Is that you?" she called, wiping off her tears. "If it is, you should leave! I'm not talking to you ever again!"

He continued ignoring her. To her alarm, she heard a loud rumble coming from where he was standing. It sounded as if something was breaking apart – as if someone was pushing aside a large toilet or a sink. "Who's there?" she called more firmly. "What are you doing?"

The rumbling suddenly stopped, and for a minute everything was still. She could hear nothing, until the figure began to speak again in that queer language. She knew at once that this was indeed Tom Riddle; his voice was indistinguishable. It was Tom's own polished words, and not the base slurs of Pollux's accent.

Finally fed up with it all, Myrtle angrily unlocked the cubicle door. "This is a girl's bathroom! You're not allowed to be in here! If you've come to apologize, I don't ca –"

Myrtle gasped when she swung open the cubicle door. She distinctly made out Tom's dark figure standing over the sinks, but her eyes were fixed upon something else.

"I was expecting you here," she faintly heard him drawl. "It's quite late in the night. If you scream, nobody will hear you. I've locked the doors so don't try to run. They'll find your body in the morning."

The last thing she saw were those two bulbous eyes, as large as golf balls and bright as flames. In less than a minute, she found her body helplessly descend to the floor and felt herself drift upward, higher and higher until she had passed through the ceiling and the sloped roof of the castle. And then she was gone.


End file.
